


Hummel’s Home for Non-Conforming Adolescents

by BeautifulUnseen



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-05-15 21:17:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 48,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14798141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifulUnseen/pseuds/BeautifulUnseen
Summary: Blaine Anderson had learned from the time he was marked as Non-Conforming that his life would never go according to plan. Still, the last thing he expected was Hummel’s Home and its head boy Kurt, who had, against all odds, escaped the same fate. Dystopian AU.





	1. Introduction

 

There were rumors.

Their origins were unknown, and they were seemingly passed through the whispering of the wind in the trees, floating down onto the ears of the disheartened and giving them the impossible hope that there was something more out there than the miserable existences they led. They were but a fairy tale the boys believed in because believing in something better was all they had.

Three such disheartened, miserable boys ventured into the cold night air in rural Ohio with nothing but the hope these rumors inspired - no direction, no resources, and no idea what would happen to them.

Among them was Blaine Anderson, with his once-bright spirit that had since been drained of all hope, and his eyes that hadn't genuinely gleamed in years.

Blaine had been too young when he was marked to be jaded, but had a plethora of memories from the past six years to prove that the deck was certainly stacked against him and others like him, and that he could expect nothing from a world that sequestered him and made him feel worthless. It was a funny thing, feeling worthless. He had always been raised to believe he was important, that his feelings mattered. But the one lesson he had learned from the moment he was taken away was that things never turned out the way he had planned.

From the time Blaine first suspected he was gay, he was innocent and naive enough to believe that _he_ could never be marked. Surely _he_ would be clever enough to hide his urges. Surely _his_ parents would never turn him in. He had seen the thick, black _NC_ tattoos on the arms of the boys working jobs around town; they were always uncovered and impossible to ignore. The two simple letters indicated an irregularity, an abnormality. To be marked NC was to be ostracized for all of adolescence and beyond, was to be removed from the general population and placed into an endless routine of unfair labor and horrible living conditions. To be marked NC was to be stripped of basic human rights.

Blaine looked down at the inside of his forearm, just below the crease of his elbow, where he could make out the bold, incriminating letters that stained his otherwise flawless skin, even in the dark.

_NC._

_Non-Conforming._

Law dictated that any male or female between the ages of ten and eighteen caught expressing or acting on homosexual urges would be marked and detained with the purpose of correcting the homosexual behaviors before adulthood. All preteen or adolescent NCs were placed in government-run group homes where they were put to work and underwent relentless therapy in the hopes that their undesired thoughts and actions could be eradicated by age eighteen, at which time, if the home had done its job properly, they would be released out into the general population. The release rate was lower than was ideal, but even those who were not allowed to reintegrate into society found themselves significantly happier than they were as teenagers.

Conditions in the adolescent homes were not well monitored or regulated, and most NCs lived in squalor. They were treated poorly, and most lawmakers and government employees turned a blind eye. The home Blaine had lived in for nearly six years was among the worst. He had endured year after year of the harshest conditions and treatment, and at first, he only survived by keeping the rumors in his heart like a spark of hope. Years later with no sign of reprieve, though, and the hope had all but gone. It had taken a new housemate to reignite the spark to encourage Blaine to actually leave the home.

Blaine had hardly been the mastermind behind their escape - not that it had required a mastermind at all; the security in and around the homes was minimal at best. After all, why would anyone want to leave only to be placed in another home? Still, the moment Blaine heard rumblings of the plan, he committed himself wholeheartedly to following through. Anywhere else had to be better than where he was now, he tried to convince himself.

In the end, it was miraculously easy to leave. They probably needn't have waited until nightfall, even, though the cover of darkness did allow them to walk farther than they would have been able to in the daylight. It surprised Blaine that they made it what must have been close to five miles before the glare of headlights zeroed in on them. The boys scattered and ran, though it was futile because all three would be caught and relocated within a day anyway.

As little as he usually had to eat, Blaine was thin and not as in shape as he would have liked to be, and he found himself out of breath within minutes. The vehicle caught up to him instantly, and he stopped in surrender, accepting the inevitable. As he was loaded into the back of a van with no windows and no view of the driver, he wished for the well-being of the two other boys who were the closest thing he'd had to friends since grade school. He hoped that wherever they ended up, it was better than from where they had come.

Based upon stories his ex-housemates had told about their own transports to homes, Blaine counted himself lucky that he had not been gagged, tied, or blindfolded for the ride. Perhaps his captor had forgotten or couldn't have been bothered.

He took advantage of the feel of the cool air blowing through the vents onto his face and the softness of the cushion below him, for he knew he would not be afforded such luxuries for the remainder of his time in a home.

The van drove easily along for a few minutes until the smooth road underneath transformed into a rough and bumpy path that carried on and on, twisting and turning for miles.

Just when Blaine thought the ride would never end, the van came to a stop and he was removed from the car.

Tall, old trees surrounded him, and the drive beneath his feet was made of dirt. A large yard sprawled out behind the two-story house that loomed in front of him. The house looked innocent, but Blaine knew better, for there was a well-maintained, illuminated sign just to his right that read:

_H2461_

But below that, quite unusually, was another line:

_Hummel's Home for Non-Conforming Adolescents_


	2. Hummel’s Home

 

" _Welcome to home 1557, Anderson. I am Kate and I'm the manager here. This is where you will be living from now on." A tall and thin middle-aged woman with shiny jet black hair, a fresh manicure, and what was surely a designer dress motioned around her hurriedly. Her words were emotionless and flat, like they had been rehearsed a hundred times and uttered in practice hundreds more. Blaine felt sick, and not just because of the stifling heat that caused beads of sweat to roll down his back, or the stench of mold and dirty dampness that assaulted his nose. His life, as he knew it, was over. This sharp and cold woman in front of him was in charge of his well-being until he turned of age. Even if he had not been merely eleven years old, Blaine would have longed for his mother._

" _Here are your two appointed uniforms and a handful of personal items. Let me give you the tour."_

_Blaine stumbled back as Kate shoved a paper bag at his chest and took off walking through the house. He held in his hands the only possessions he would have for years. The bag was heartbreakingly light, giving away that it held extremely limited contents. Blaine's eyes filled with tears as he reached to straighten a bow tie that was not there anymore, a nervous habit he was not sure he would ever break._

_The last few hours of his life had been a blur, but his brain was starting to catch up with what was happening to him and register a whole slew of emotions. He had more or less been ripped from his home with no chance to say goodbye to his parents and transported to a government facility where he was given his mark. From there, he was thrown in the back of a van with three other boys and the four of them were distributed among various homes in the area. If he had learned anything in the past day, it was that the mark on his arm meant nobody would treat him the same ever again._

_An overwhelming sadness washed over Blaine as he scampered to catch up with the severe-looking lady, his wide, too-innocent eyes looking around in fear._

" _This is the kitchen," Kate told him. "We receive shipments of food every other Wednesday and there's a rotating schedule for who is in charge of making the meals."_

_What she called the kitchen was really just a fridge, an oven, and a few cupboards shoved in one corner of a small room. It seemed too small for the number of residents that it needed to feed, but what really caught his eye was the boy who stood at the oven, stirring something foul-smelling in a large pan. His standard issue clothes that looked ready to disintegrate at any moment draped pathetically across his slumped skeleton. His head was roughly shaven, eyes sunken, and streaks of grime caked the premature worry lines he sported._

_Blaine had only seen people like him out on the streets begging for money; he never thought_ he _would someday be one of those people. The boy looked up and caught him staring, and offered him a wary smile._

_Blaine's breath caught in his throat because in that moment he saw himself. Looking into the boy's face was like looking into his own future, a future he suddenly wanted to do anything to avoid._

_The muted sound of Kate's heels clicking across the uneven linoleum floor caused Blaine's head to snap up in the opposite direction just in time to see her disappear around the corner, not looking back to check if he was following. Tearing his eyes away from his new housemate, he jogged to catch up and found himself in a room with a large, worn couch, a broken television set, and a bookshelf with tattered old volumes stacked haphazardly._

" _Here's the common room where you can spend your free time, though as you'll notice, it is usually empty because there isn't much free time to be had." She motioned to a chart on the wall that had fourteen boys' names written across the side with what appeared to be jobs next to them. "This is where you will find your work assignment for the day. The duration and type of work you do will be up to the person to whom you are assigned that day. You'll begin tomorrow. The van leaves at 7:00am sharp."_

_Blaine caught sight of some of the assignments. They were vague enough to leave him questioning what the next day might hold. Sanitary, shipping, construction, Ricky…_

_He noticed that one or two of the boys just had names next to theirs, and wondered what that meant. An unexplained sinking feeling settled over him._

_Kate was moving on again, so Blaine followed her into the saddest room he had seen yet. He could feel the thick air in the small, rectangular room, and it smelled like nothing in the space had been washed in months. Blaine could have sworn he saw small brown bugs scurrying to hide from the light. He breathed through his mouth and braced himself against the doorframe so he would not gag or faint. In doing so, his paper bag of belongings fell to the floor with a soft_ thud _, eliciting a glare from Kate._

" _Clumsiness will not do, Anderson. I cannot send you out on jobs if you'll be dropping things left and right." She turned back around to look into the room. "Here are the living quarters. The bathroom is to the left. You will take the empty bed in the middle there, and you'll find a cubby for your uniforms by your bed. We have a lot of turnover with boys leaving and being removed from the home, so if you don't like the placement of your bed, you will have ample opportunity to move when someone else leaves."_

" _Bed" was hardly the word Blaine would have used to describe the mess of soiled, infested cots that had been crammed into every available nook and cranny. He thought wistfully of his clean, plush bed at home and had to fight the urge to turn on his heel and run. It was pointless, anyway._

" _If there is anything else you need, Ethan can help you. He is the head boy of the house, and he helps me run things. That's his room just down the hall. Now, it's probably best to go to bed since you'll need to be up early in the morning to check your assignment. I hope you enjoy your time here, Anderson," she said with a forced smile that resembled a grimace before waltzing out of the room as if she had a million other things she would rather be doing. He envied her the freedom to leave whenever she wanted. His sentence was airtight, and possibly for life._

_In somewhat of a daze, Blaine located the empty cot that Kate had indicated and flopped down after brushing off dirt and a few bugs, allowing himself to dissolve into fits of sobs for what would be the last time in six years._

* * *

"Welcome to home 2461, Anderson."

Blaine had been ushered inside by the driver of the van that had picked him up. The man was short and round with watery eyes and evidently no ability to smile. The signature NCEA (Non-Conformist Enforcement Agency) jacket he sported gave him false reason to believe he was above everyone else he came into contact with. The man followed closely behind as he pushed Blaine across the threshold, and Blaine, flinching away from the contact, was now standing in the entryway of the new house — _Hummel's House —_ face-to-face with a tall, balding man wearing a plaid flannel and jeans, who Blaine assumed must be the house manager.

"I'm Burt Hummel." He made no move to shake Blaine's hand, but was looking directly at Blaine without judging him, which was entirely out of the ordinary, in the teenager's experience. Most NCs were only looked at by the general population with either disdain, fear, or to size them up for a job. Burt's steady gaze put him at ease in a way that was far too uncomfortable. "Here are your clothes and personal items. I'll show you around and show you where you can put them."

Burt's eyes shifted from Blaine to the government worker behind him, hardening slightly as the man continued to follow them through the short entryway into the common area.

It was slightly cleaner and, unfortunately, had less books on the shelf than the common room in his last home, but his heart sank to see that the resemblance was uncanny, right down to the broken television set and springs popping out of the sofa. He was momentarily thankful it was not summertime, and therefore, the air was not heavy and reeking of uncleanliness.

Blaine noted the job chart on the wall and counted fourteen names, the same as what he was used to. Bile rose in his throat before he could look at what the assignments were, so his eyes slid over the rest of the chart and back to Burt without processing any of the hand written words. Burt was looking at him again with something unrecognizable in his eyes that made Blaine feel uneasy. Blaine dropped his gaze respectfully to the ground, catching Burt's head shake out of the corner of his eye. Blaine and the government worker were then led through the kitchen and to the closed door of the dormitory in silence.

"The boys are sleeping. Most of them have had long days of work and have to get up early to go back out again tomorrow. When we're finished and you're ready to settle in, I'll bring you back here," Burt said in a hushed voice, motioning to the door. "My room and the head boy's room are up these stairs, in case you ever need one of us. Let's head back to the entry and we can make sure your paperwork is all squared away."

Blaine knew enough by that point to recognize when a house manger was working the system, but he also knew not to expect a government official to care enough to push for the truth. Apparently whatever horrors were hiding behind the closed door of the dormitory there at Hummel's House were so awful that Burt did not even want to show the short NCEA man tagging along, though Blaine suspected the man would have turned a blind eye anyway. He bit his lip, willing away the tears, a feat at which he had become remarkably adept. He had _almost_ dropped his hardened expectations of the world and allowed himself to hope that things could actually be better than they were before, but it appeared it would be more of exactly the same. More awful jobs, more cramped and dirty living, more of nobody caring.

Blaine sighed, exhaling the very last tendril of hope from his heart, and trailed behind the towering, intimidating man who would now run his life. He sat idly by in the manager's impeccably clean, yet untidy office as Burt signed the papers, accepting Blaine into his care. Blaine noticed how Burt took the time to read through each page of the document, and signed with what could only be described as pride, as opposed to his previous house manager, who had actually looked the other direction when she signed her name. Burt was an enigma to Blaine. He seemed to be just as strict, just as much in league with the government as the other house managers he'd met or heard about, but the little nuances in his looks, his behavior, and his speech, made Blaine wonder if he really was different.

* * *

_Burt Hummel remembered exactly where he was the day the news broke that the Non-Conformist laws had passed in the senate. He could not be sure why he remembered; he had never known or cared for someone whom the laws would affect. Still, twenty years later, he could vividly recall sitting in his high school cafeteria and hearing the radio announcement that anyone between the ages of ten and eighteen who demonstrated any homosexual tendencies could be turned in and would be taken into government custody immediately to undergo "correction."_

_At the time, nobody knew exactly what custody and correction meant. Within weeks, though, government-run homes began popping up across the country to house teenage boys and girls who had been deemed "Non-Conforming." Burt never paid it much mind, since he had no personal ties to the matter, but even he heard horror stories of some of what the kids his age and younger had to go through. There were very loose regulations in place for what could and could not happen to an NC, especially when they were hired out on jobs._

_The garage Burt worked for after school and his football team started hiring kids from the local homes to do heavy, cheap labor, and Burt had the feeling that they were some of the best jobs out there for NCs. He tried his hardest not to stare at the black markings on their arms or the pitiful way they grew thinner and more hopeless each week, but he could not help but to occasionally catch a glimpse of the eyes that screamed "_ help me," _causing a heaviness to weigh him down from the pit of his stomach._

_Burt knew something was wrong with the way NCs were being treated, but it wasn't until he was out of high school and met the beautiful Elizabeth that he realized just how wrong it was. His sweet Lizzie, whom he counted himself beyond lucky to have found, was the fairest, most compassionate person he knew, and as they grew to know each other, he realized that her views on the matter were right. Homosexuals did not pose a threat to society, nor did their behavior need to be corrected, especially in such a horrendous manner as the rumors told._

_A year later, in an extraordinary stroke of luck, Elizabeth agreed to marry Burt, and not long after, they wed and gave birth to their beautiful little boy, Kurt. Becoming a parent added something extra to their vehement opposition of the NC laws, as they could now empathize with the children and parents who were separated against their will. Nobody's innocent, helpless child should have to go through what these boys and girls were faced with just because of who they loved._

_Burt and Elizabeth began saving their money to hire boys and girls from nearby homes to do simple, easy jobs for them that would give them a short reprieve from their usual daily routine. Elizabeth always made sure the too-thin, too-dirty teenagers were sent off with full bellies and clean clothes. It wasn't enough, but it was what they could do._

_Then, the unthinkable happened, and Elizabeth passed unexpectedly, leaving Burt to continue on by himself. Fighting through the grief of losing his beloved wife, he steadfastly upheld what he and Elizabeth had started, as tough as it was on his finances. Seeing the relief on the faces of the boys and girls who were dropped off at his door in the mornings and their smiles at the full plate of food he gave them for lunch made the struggle worth it._

_When he finally surfaced from the ocean of grief he felt after nearly a year of going monotonously through the motions, Burt started paying closer attention to his son and noticed some differences between Kurt and the other boys he knew. Terrified, Burt started to realize that his son, his kind, smart son who loved tea parties and dressing up Barbie dolls, might be gay. He knew what happened to gay kids, and while he never wanted Kurt to have to hide from who he was, he never wanted Kurt to be marked._

_From that day forward, Burt made sure to instill in Kurt that he could be whoever he wanted to be at home, as long as he stuck to the standard when he went out in public. The two of them were happy, but as Kurt aged, and as Burt realized that others were starting to grow suspicious of some of Kurt's behaviors, he became more and more afraid of the dangers lurking around every corner for Kurt. So he did the only thing he could think of to protect his son: he turned over ownership of his tire shop and applied to open an NC home._

* * *

With all of the paperwork signed and Blaine officially transferred into home 2461, the NCEA worker took his leave. Burt made no move to exit the office as he watched the man retreat, so Blaine stood awkwardly while he waited for instructions. They listened to the dirt and pebbles shift under the weight of the van as it drove away, and finally, Burt looked back to Blaine, strangely apologetic.

"Wish I could have given you a heads up," Burt said, the tone of his voice completely different from the flat tone it had had a few minutes prior. "Come on, I'll show you to the dorm."

Blaine was thoroughly confused, but as someone who had learned to roll with the punches and not let anything faze him, he followed obediently.

Burt opened the door that had previously been closed and led Blaine into the dormitory. Shock colored Blaine's expression as he realized that the overcrowded room contained beds that appeared lived-in, but were all empty.

"What—?" he began, but Burt held up his hand to stop his question mid-sentence. He cowered back automatically at the raised hand, curling in on himself in preparation, but Burt was walking straight ahead, not even realizing that Blaine had stopped.

It took a few moments for Blaine to catch his breath and realize that he would not be punished for speaking out of turn, and by the time he straightened out of his defensive posture, Burt had noticed that Blaine was no longer behind him.

"You coming, kid?"

Blaine, not wanting to push his luck by disobeying twice in a row, rolled the tension out of his shoulders and walked quickly ahead to where Burt awaited him on the other side of the dorm.

They stood in a hallway with a large barn door that seemed to be permanently set in place to the right of the entrance to the communal bathroom, but Burt fiddled around between the door and the wall and flipped a hidden catch. The door, now mobile, slid easily aside as Burt pushed it to cover the bathroom entrance.

A darkened staircase has materialized in front of them, and the older man gestured ahead. "After you,"

Blaine gave him a blank stare, wondering if he was serious. Into what kind of torture chamber was he expected to walk willingly? He half-anticipated being ignored and feeling a forward shove at his back to prod him down the stairs, but neither came. Instead, Burt smiled widely and proudly. "Welcome to Hummel's Home, Blaine."


	3. Orientation

 

Cautiously, Blaine descended the staircase toward the dimly illuminated room below, hyperaware of Burt behind him. He angled his torso away from the man's closeness instinctively and watched his feet, naked and callused, not daring to look ahead at what awaited him. When his toes found purchase in soft, thick carpet, he finally raised his head and was met with an immediate sense of disorientation.

He knew he was in an NC home, but was there was no way… The room in front of him was _nice._ It was clearly meant to be a recreation area, but it was like none he had ever seen or heard of in a home before. There were multiple couches and chairs, an entire entertainment center, a few musical instruments, even a computer. Blaine's mouth fell open, at a loss for how to react.

"Like I said," Burt spoke, pulling Blaine's attention back to him gently. "I wish I could have given you a heads up, but you'll understand why we have to be careful that the government never finds out about this. They only come to bring new boys and quarterly for inspections, so it's not often we have to pretend, but it's necessary." He gauged Blaine's expression for a moment before continuing, realizing he was unlikely to receive a response. "So you're welcome to use this room any time you like, but curfew is at eleven. That computer does have an internet connection, but it is monitored by the government, so we typically keep it disconnected unless you need something specific. Let me see…"

They moved on to a long table toward the other side of the open room. "This is where we eat. If you like to cook, you'll have to fight Kurt for control of the kitchen. Lunch, if you're around, is on your own, but we eat breakfast together every day at seven, and dinner together every night at six."

Blaine knew his eyes were bugging out of his head, but he couldn't help it. He didn't know what to think. It had to be a trick. The way Burt spoke of the way the household ran was completely unfamiliar to Blaine. It sounded functional and almost familial. He was having a difficult time processing what was going on around him, but tried to zero in on what Burt was telling him..

"The job chart is over here. Boys are out Monday through Saturday, but we all have Sundays off together. I post the assignments for the week every Sunday afternoon. What else?" He looked around the room trying to think of anything else to tell Blaine, who looked ready to go into shock.

"The bedrooms are down this hall. I'm sorry they're on the small side, but that's the price we pay for a little privacy," he chuckled. "Your official roommate is Jeff, but I'm pretty sure some sort of covert room swap went down between the guys…" Burt laughed as he said it with a fond shake of his head. "So I think you'll be with Chandler. He has a lot to say, but he's a good kid. There are three bathrooms, and Kurt worked out a shower rotation since there was so much arguing at first. It's posted on the door of each bathroom."

Blaine had yet to see the bedrooms or bathrooms yet, but he had a suspicion they were just as nice as the rest of the basement. When was Burt going to take him back upstairs and tell him it was all a joke? He put his hands on his knees to keep from hyperventilating.

"Are you okay?" Burt asked, hunching down to try to see Blaine's face while staying a few inches away to give him space. The question cut off any progress Blaine had made at trying to even his breathing. No adult had asked him how he was doing in years, and on top of everything else, it was too much to handle.

"I'm sorry," he choked out, embarrassed at his breakdown, but unable to regain control of himself.

Burt pulled up a wooden chair and told Blaine to sit. "Listen, kid. It's unusual for us to get a new boy, especially a stray. I've never picked up someone who has been in the system for so long, and I don't know what you've been through. I promise you, though, this is real. I know you think you have no reason to believe me, but talk to the boys tomorrow. Blaine," Burt said, drawing Blaine's gaze to his face. The haunting sunken eyes stared back at him, pleading for it to be true. "This is where it starts to get better. I promise."

Burt took a bottle of water from a nearby drink cooler and offered it to Blaine, who eyed it suspiciously, as if it was a trick, but took it after Burt's proffered hand didn't falter. It had been ages since he'd had cold, clean water, and he gulped it down in just a few swallows.

Knees popping as he straightened up again, Burt said, "Okay, I've talked at you enough for one night. We can continue your orientation tomorrow. Now let's get you cleaned up before bed."

It turned out that "cleaned up" meant showered and into pajamas. Burt handed him a pile of soft fabric and showed him to the bathroom. "Use the products that are in there. Towels are hanging on the wall."

Blaine, dumbfounded that he'd be given use of products and a towel, ambled into the bathroom and turned on the water. He stepped in and shrieked, jumping right back out.

"Everything okay in there?" Burt called through the door a moment later.

Blaine poked his head out sheepishly. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Hummel, I accidentally used hot water. I'm not used to warm water being available and I was not expecting it. I will accept any consequence you have to offer." He hung his head in shame, stepping out into the hallway with his old shirt wrapped around his waist. "I will head straight to bed."

Burt's outstretched finger stopped him, and if Blaine had raised his eyes to Burt's face, he would have seen the sad, almost regretful look he was trying to fight off. "The water wasn't an accident. Make it as hot as you'd like. Get back in there and don't come out until you're clean."

Blaine obeyed, almost unwillingly, body and brain fighting over how right or wrong it felt to shower in warm water, then dressed in the clothes Burt had given him. They looked lightly worn, if not new. He hadn't had pajamas or a hot shower for six years, but he had to assume it was all part of whatever scam he was experiencing.

Burt showed him to his room and wished him a good night. Blaine tiptoed across the room in the glow of the nightlight to the empty bed on the left hand side. True to Burt's description, there were only two beds in his room, which was small, but quiet and clean. He couldn't see it well, but managed to locate his bed without falling over anything. Upon sinking down onto it, though, he jumped up and just barely stopped himself from screaming. There was a mattress. A real mattress. With cool, fresh sheets. It couldn't be right.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly slid back down into the bed, thinking of Burt's words. _This is where it starts to get better. I promise._

How could Blaine trust those words when nobody had done anything good for him in years? How could he believe that anything could get better when things had only gotten worse since the day of his marking?

His last thought before falling into a reluctant sleep was that if it was all a trick, at least he would have one night in comfort before it was all torn away from him.

* * *

 

_Sleep had not come easily that first night in the home. It was hot and stuffy and uncomfortable, and once or twice, Blaine thought he could feel things crawling across his skin. His mind would not shut off, wishing he could turn back time and erase everything that had happened from the moment he had trusted that boy._

_By the time an alarm blared at six o'clock the next morning, Blaine felt exhausted and even more hopeless than he had the night before._

_All around him, people started silently rising from their cots and dressing in their scratchy and stiff uniforms. Blaine had slept in his, as uncomfortable as it had been, because he had not been given any pajamas. He followed their lead, heading for the bathroom and waiting in line to relieve himself and brush his teeth, even though there was no toothpaste in sight._

_It was eerie the way nobody spoke to anyone else, and Blaine could feel the loneliness hanging over the group of dejected young men like a cloud. None of the boys seemed to take a second glance at Blaine. Perhaps there were new residents so regularly that they did not take notice of new arrivals. The thought did nothing to soothe Blaine. What could be the cause for such turnover? He shuddered to think of any answer to that question._

_The crowd of teenagers and preteens moved in a clump to the kitchen, where a bowl of overly-ripe bananas and a stack of cups sat on the counter. Blaine mimicked the boy in front of him, taking a banana and filling his cup with water. He took his so-called breakfast to the job assignment chart and saw "construction" listed next to his name. A small bit of relief came over him. Construction didn't sound so bad. He had helped his dad build a bookshelf that summer, and knew his way around a toolbox as well as any other boy his age._

_Questions circled around in his mind, curious about what went on in the house, and what he could expect for the next six and a half years of his life. Blaine was a social person; he was always happier with someone else than by himself. Another younger boy stood nearby, so Blaine came up to him and said, "hi, I'm Blaine. I got here last night."_

_The boy raised his head slowly, fear etched on his face and his mouth slightly open like he was thinking about speaking._

" _Hey, you two! Break it up!" came the voice of a boy in the throes of puberty. Its owner came into view, a tall and chubby boy in a football jersey and athletic shorts. "This house is to keep you away from that freakish gay stuff!"_

_Blaine backed away slowly, distancing himself from the other boy. "I'm sorry, I didn't know—"_

" _Oh," said the older boy, who looked at Blaine like he was realizing for the first time that he was there. "Are you new?"_

_Blaine nodded, keeping his head turned down just a bit._

" _I'm Ethan, the head boy here. That means you have to do whatever I say. Got it?" He was leering at Blaine in a way that made him squirm, but Blaine nodded his understanding anyway. "Good. Now give me your banana. I'm hungry."_

_A horn blared from outside the house, making Blaine jump._

" _That's your ride, homo. See ya later."_

_Floored at the way he had just been treated, Blaine dumbly followed the line of residents out front and hopped in the van to which he'd been directed after checking in with Kate._

_The noise of the world passing by outside the van as they drove away was slightly more comforting than the deafening silence from the house that morning, but even with a clearer mind, Blaine could hardly sort out his emotions. What he could recognize, though, was that with every passing second, he grew more alone and less like the Blaine he had always been._

* * *

Blaine woke to a short, thin boy with a pile of blond hair atop his head standing over him and smiling widely.

"Good morning! I'm Chandler, your roommate. I didn't know we were getting a new boy so soon after Michael turned eighteen. Breakfast is in five minutes. Get up and get dressed. I'm guessing you don't have any clothes yet, so you can borrow some of mine. We look like we're about the same size. I have to work today, so you can wear my house clothes. Here you go!" He disappeared for a moment and returned, holding out some freshly laundered clothes.

"Uh…" Blaine blinked, trying to acclimate to his surroundings. He felt strangely refreshed, and remembered the soft bed beneath him and the cool air blowing around the room. He recalled the odd night before with its emotional roller coaster, full shower, and fresh clothes. He remembered Burt and being told it would get better. He had never been more doubtful of anything in his life, but here he was, still in the clean pajamas in the soft bed in the private room in the strange house. Still, barely awake, this boy — Chandler — was only confusing him more. "I, um...I have clothes," he told Chandler while thinking of the ragged, soiled clothes in which he had arrived, but eyed the neatly folded, clean, and intact outfit longingly.

"Mm, no you don't." Chandler pursed his lips. "Those old things were so nasty that I tossed them out on my way to the bathroom this morning. Sorry 'bout it." He shrugged as if not sorry at all.

When Chandler shoved the stack of garments closer to Blaine's face, he sat up and hesitantly took the clothes from his new and very persistent roommate.

"Do you remember where the bathroom is? I noticed that Kurt set up your station in there already. You're welcome to change in here if you want. I promise I'm not the predatory gay of the house."

Blaine gasped and looked around him like he was expecting something bad to happen. "You can't—I mean, that word. You can't just—"

"Are you okay?" Chandler cut him off, still hovering over Blaine's bed.

Blaine flopped back onto his pillow, the softest cloud his head had ever touched. "Is this really happening to me?" he muttered disbelievingly under his breath.

"Come on," Chandler urged. "It's time to eat. I'll wait for you."

Blaine, warily eyeing the other boy, extricated himself from the bedsheets and made his way to the bathroom, where he found a toothbrush, toothpaste, razor, and shaving cream in a basket with his name on it. Upon his return to his room, he dressed in the clothes Chandler had given him, but immediately peeled the shirt back off frantically, as if he could not get out of it quickly enough.

"Whose clothes are these?" He asked, holding the shirt carefully between his fingers and far away from his body.

"I told you," Chandler said exasperatedly. "They're my extra house set. If they don't fit you, we can find someone else to borrow from."

"They're not yours."

"They say CK on the tag. They're definitely mine."

"But…" Blaine picked up a sleeve and let it fall back against the impossibly soft material of the torso. "It has long sleeves."

"So?" He could sense Chandler's increasing annoyance at Blaine's apparent cluelessness, but he couldn't let it go

"We can't. We're not allowed to cover…" He displayed his NC tattoo on his forearm.

"Not when we go out, sure. But what we wear around the house doesn't matter. Come on. Put it back on and let's go eat. I'm starved."

Blaine, unsure, put the shirt back on, but pushed the sleeves up past his elbows before following Chandler out to the dining area.

The first thing Blaine noticed about the dining room was the noise level. The voices of twelve boys talking over each other rang out, reverberating off of the walls and filling the space. Blaine's first instinct was to shush them, afraid they would be reprimanded for speaking too loudly. But then he noticed that Burt was among them, joining in the conversation.

The second thing he noticed was that the voices sounded joyful. The boys teased, joked, and chatted happily, as if they were not fulfilling a prison sentence. He watched as one boy howled with laughter so intense that orange juice came out his nose.

_Orange juice._ It had been so long since Blaine had been able to have treats like orange juice, sausage, cinnamon toast, and other foods that were piled upon plates on the table. His mouth watered at the thought of indulging.

As he continued surveying the scene in front of him, Blaine realized that the boys in the house did not just sound different, they looked different, too. Half of them wore sleeves that covered their forearms, and the clothes were in good condition. The standard solid black of the government-issued uniforms was nowhere to be found among the sea of colors the boys sported. And their _hair_...

"Blaine! Why don't you come join us?" Burt called him over, pulling out an empty chair next to him. Unable to stop staring, Blaine complied. Burt grabbed a plate for him and told Blaine to take what he wanted. Blaine was hesitant as he reached for the plate of sausage, unsure if he was being pranked. But when Burt nodded encouragingly and the other boys didn't bat an eyelash, he put one on his plate. After Blaine took one sausage link, a glass of water, and half a piece of toast, Burt clicked his tongue and took the plate from his hands.

"I'm sorry," Blaine whispered, cowering in on himself and feeling as though the promise of something beautiful had been ripped from his hands, albeit not completely unexpectedly. Burt, though, loaded the plate with food and returned it to Blaine.

"Eat," he commanded softly.

Overwhelmed, Blaine ate and watched the other boys as they introduced themselves. There were four other boys his age — Chandler, one named Sebastian whose suggestive smirk made him uncomfortable, and Nick and Jeff.

"Nick was supposed to be your roommate," Chandler explained, "but honestly, nobody wanted to share a room with either of those two, so Michael and I proposed a swap. Now everyone is happy and nobody has to worry about walking in on something that can't be unseen."

Blaine was confused by Chandler's words, because Nick and Jeff seemed like nice people, but he decided to keep an eye out when he was around them, just in case.

"Blaine? Why are you staring at us? I mean, I know _I'm_ good looking, but the rest of these idiots…" Sebastian trailed off jokingly.

Feeling like he'd been caught, Blaine blushed scarlet and dropped his head. "No, I wasn't—I don't think you're—I just—you all have hair?"

Everyone at the table fell silent, confused and waiting for Blaine to elaborate, but when it became clear that he was not going to say more on the matter to the group, everyone slowly and uncomfortably returned to their previous conversations. Burt turned to him.

"You can grow out your hair too, if you want," he said, eyeing Blaine's badly shaven scalp.

Blaine missed his hair desperately. Growing up, he always hated his unruly, untamable curls, but after six years without them, he had learned to appreciate what he once had.

"But don't you worry about lice?"

Burt grimaced, the pitying sadness back in his eyes. "We take cleanliness very seriously. You don't have to worry about bugs here."

Blaine just stared back in astonishment.

Some of the boys who wore their work uniforms started standing and clearing the table of their dishes.

"I'm going to go see these guys off to their jobs. Why don't you stay and chat? I can see that you have questions, and they can do a better job at answering than I can. You aren't scheduled to work until Wednesday, but you'll start tutoring tomorrow, and I'll get you on the therapy schedule as well. Take your time getting to know the guys and the home today, and Blaine?" Blaine's eyes snapped up to look at the enigma of a man who he was learning never did or said anything Blaine expected. "Try to relax."

Burt rose from his chair next to the disoriented boy and headed out of the room. He clapped Jeff on the shoulder and gave him a meaningful look as he walked by.

Most of the remaining boys returned to their rooms, but Jeff stayed behind, moving over a few chairs to sit across from Blaine.

"Hey, I know Burt showed you around a little last night, but I just wanted to offer up my services in case you want a little more detailed orientation," the blond told Blaine with a friendly smile

"Sure," Blaine said, feeling a little more at ease now that his only companion was the relaxed, cheerful Jeff, who was one of his equals. Jeff seemed like someone Blaine might have been friends with once. After years of solitude amid a crowd, though, and he was not sure he would ever connect with anyone again. He was a far cry from his old self, Blaine knew, barely recognizing the boy he saw in the mirror.

"So obviously you've seen that we eat together," Jeff started. "That's an everyday thing. Burt thinks it helps us all get to know each other and get along. Which we do, But I'm pretty sure we're all so happy just because we love to eat and Kurt is a great chef. He always cooks for us, so that's awesome, because I can't even make toast without burning it."

"When you say meals…" Blaine tried to clarify. Burt had mentioned it last night, but Blaine's mind had been in a daze and had not processed much of what he was told.

"Breakfast and dinner. Lunch is on your own, but if it's a school day or an off day, there's usually a tray of sandwiches or something for us to choose from that Kurt prepared."

"Three meals? A day?" Blaine hadn't heard of such a thing since the days before his marking. His stomach growled just considering it, even though he had just eaten.

Jeff's brow furrowed, confused at Blaine's bewilderment. "Of course. We are expected to attend all 'family' meals unless we're sick or something." He stood and motioned for Blaine to follow him over to the job chart. "Then there's work. You'll already know all about jobs from your last house, but you'll either be on a Monday, Wednesday, Friday or a Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday schedule for work. The other two weekdays a tutor comes in so we can keep up with our education."

"Like...school?" Once upon a time, Blaine had loved school. But he hadn't had so much as a single lesson since entering the system. He had been able to keep up with his reading by scrounging up any books or discarded newspapers or magazines he found when out on jobs (and in more recent years, through other, more undesirable methods), but the thought of actually learning again, as unbelievable as it was, made his hopes soar.

"Basically. Burt wants us to be able to get our GED when we leave here, since we can't graduate high school." He shrugged. "So after work or school, we have therapy sessions twice a week. That's standard at the homes, so I'm sure you know about that."

Blaine shivered, an involuntary response to the mere idea of therapy. He wasn't sure how Jeff could smile while talking about the sessions, and was about to ask, but they were moving on to the next topic already.

"Any down time, you're welcome to spend in your room or in the common room. We watch movies together pretty regularly, and play lots of games."

"You do?" It was a foreign concept to Blaine, having free time and spending it with housemates.

"We have to stay entertained somehow," Jeff joked, leading Blaine back to the living room to sit on the couch.

"Can I ask you a question?" Blaine ventured, sitting on the far opposite end of the sofa as Jeff kicked his feet up on the coffee table in front of them. His hands shook as he spoke, though the question was innocent enough. The last time he'd initiated a conversation with another resident was his first day after being marked, when he'd been reprimanded, and he had never tried again since.

"Anything."

"Have you ever been in another home?"

"Nope. None of us have. There's rarely turnover here. We were all placed here when we were first marked, and that's that. We don't leave until we age out"

"I can see why…" Blaine muttered, finally starting to believe that Hummel's Home was real. Jeff spoke of their lifestyle and routine so matter-of-factly, as though being treated well was the standard, not the exception. All thirteen of his new housemates had never known the true horrors of the system, thanks to Burt.

"And Burt. What's his deal?" Blaine asked.

Jeff shrugged. "Nobody really knows. He's pretty private about his personal life and how he came to be here. The only thing we really know is that he's not married, and that Kurt is his son. Did you know that?"

Blaine shook his head. "Is he...does he treat you well?" The question he really wanted to ask seemed too crude to say aloud in a place as nice as Hummel's Home.

"Burt? Or Kurt? Burt is like a dad to all of us, Blaine. He's great. Kurt stays out of the way for the most part and rarely talks to anyone, so nobody really knows much about him. But he cooks for us, so that's a win in most of our books. He's probably still cleaning up from breakfast. I can introduce you if you'd like."

Blaine sighed, thinking he might as well get it over with. He knew just what to expect based on his past experiences with head boys: a foul-mouthed, bad-tempered, all-American guy without a care what happened to the house or its residents. Every head boy he'd had or heard about took full advantage of having fourteen boys under his supervision, and treated them like personal servants. Or worse.

"Kurt?" Jeff called questioningly into the kitchen.

"In here!" came a melodic voice as they rounded the corner. Blaine took in the tall, pale figure who had his back turned to them. He was, contrary to Blaine's expectations, slender and well-dressed. Just being in the presence of a head boy, though, no matter how different he may look, made the hair on the back of Blaine's neck stand on end.

"Hey. I want you to meet our new resident, Blaine. Blaine, this is Kurt."

The head boy turned around with a guarded smile, drying his hands on a dish towel and Blaine was hit with a wave of confusion. The tough, judgmental expression he had come to anticipate from anyone in charge of an NC home was absent from his face, and Blaine felt no urge to run in the other direction. Quite the opposite, actually..

Kurt's eyes rounded slightly in surprise as he took in the sight of the worn-down and despondent new boy, but he quickly rearranged his expression back to something welcoming. Blaine instantly noticed his stormy eyes that seemed to hide an ocean of secrets and his lips that pressed into a smile that was part warmth, part concern. The most striking thing about Kurt's face, though, as beautiful as it was, was the lack of the carefree happiness that Blaine had seen in the house residents. It drew in Blaine, who immediately recognized the dark loneliness and desperate longing to be something else.

It may have been the freeing atmosphere of Hummel's Home, or it could have been the emotional shakeup he'd undergone in the last twenty-four hours, but looking at Kurt, Blaine felt a surge of something he had not felt for six years. Attraction.

His hand flew to his hair to try to run fingers through the curls that had not been there for years, and he swallowed a lump in his throat, forcing himself to look away from the sharp and compelling face of the boy to whom he was drawn, but who had the potential to make his new life as much of a living hell as his old one.

When Kurt spoke, the sincerity in his voice surprised Blaine yet again. "Hi Blaine, it's really nice to meet you."

Reaching out, Blaine connected his hand with Kurt's to shake, creating a long line with their exposed forearms and revealing the one thing that would always separate the two of them. It was an alarming juxtaposition, for Blaine to see his own dark, tattooed arm next to the expanse of Kurt's skin, which was pale and smooth. And unmarked.


	4. Kurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all I want to say thank you to everyone who has read the beginning of this story and shared their thoughts with me. I apologize in advance for not being able to update next week, but vacation promises to keep me occupied. :) 
> 
> Secondly, I need to mention that this chapter contains mentions and brief descriptions of past non consensual sex. I do not go into the actual non con scene, and there are not any graphic descriptions of what happened. There are also a few homophobic slurs in the same passage. If you prefer to skip over that section, scroll past the italicized flashback portion of the chapter when you get to that point! 
> 
> Lots of love! xo

 

"—and I just don't understand what could have happened to make him like that," Blaine heard Kurt's strained voice say through the wood of Burt's office door. He knew straight away that the head boy and his father were talking about him, but could not understand why they sounded so distressed and defeated.

"The world is a bad place for NCs, Kurt. There are things you don't even want to know about."

"But it's not fair! God, sometimes I wish that I—"

"Don't even say it!" Burt cut him off sharply. "You know what we've had to sacrifice for this. So don't you for one second feel guilty about it. What is it you tell me all the time?"

An audible sigh, and on the exhale, "We can't save everyone."

Blaine felt bad eavesdropping any further on the strange conversation, so he lifted his knuckles to rap on the door. He had been asked to come up after Jeff finished showing him around.

The door swung open to reveal Kurt with Burt sitting at his desk in the background. Blaine kept his gaze respectfully low, partially to show his dutiful deference, but primarily to avoid the flush that threatened to take over his face upon seeing Kurt.

"Come in, Blaine," Burt said, motioning for him to sit as Kurt stepped aside. "I have arranged a doctor appointment for you this morning. Just a physical," Burt clarified upon seeing the alarm on Blaine's face. "And to update your immunizations. Unfortunately, I won't be available to take you, because I'm needed at a house manager training in the city this afternoon, but Kurt has agreed to accompany you instead."

He gave Blaine brief instructions on finding an appropriate outfit to wear in public since he did not have anything of his own yet, and then apologized authentically. "I'm sorry to take off on you like this when you just got here."

Blaine shrugged. It was strange for Blaine to hear Burt apologize for leaving. Sometimes he wouldn't see Kate for days or even weeks back at his old home. She would disappear without explanation, leaving her head boy in charge, which always led to chaos in the house. Blaine left the room with a small "thanks," promising to meet Kurt out front in fifteen minutes.

Blaine wandered into the tutoring room as Burt had directed, successfully located Jeff, and together they found clothes for him to wear. Jeff flopped on Chandler's bed while Blaine changed.

"You said Kurt is taking you to your appointment? _Head boy_ Kurt?"

Blaine nodded like it was obvious. He was not sure there was anyone else in the house named Kurt.

"Wow, okay. So earlier when I said Kurt keeps to himself, that may have been a gigantic understatement. Kurt never spends time with any of us. He's nice enough when we talk to him, and he does tons of stuff for us, but he avoids any interaction that's not strictly necessary. Wonder what he did for Burt to punish him like this…" Jeff teased.

Blaine bit back his fear, not understanding the joke. "You think he will be mad at me?"

Jeff rolled his eyes. "Relax, Blaine. Kurt is perfectly nice. I was just kidding. He must like you to have agreed to take you." He jumped up from the bed and headed to the door, words having done little to assure Blaine. "Gotta get back to school, unfortunately. Have fun!"

Fun was probably out of the question. Worries about Kurt aside, Blaine hadn't seen a doctor since before he was marked, despite having been severely ill a few times. Sickness spread like wildfire in a drought in the cesspool of Blaine's last home, and treatment was rarely given. Sometimes he honestly felt lucky to be alive. If the word lucky could ever be used to describe someone in his situation…

When Blaine joined Kurt inside the car ten minutes later, the attraction he had felt to Kurt earlier was pushed to the background as his body began reacting negatively to being alone in close quarters to a man in a position of superiority. Aside from Burt so far, men with power over him had only ever hurt him, and though he tried to comfort himself by repeating Jeff's words, he could not stop the nervous pounding of his heart. His palms were sweaty, mouth dry, and his instinct was to get out.

Kurt, seeming to notice that Blaine was jumpy and uncomfortable, reached slowly for the car stereo and turned on something vaguely familiar.

"Is this okay?" he asked.

Blaine nodded jerkily. After having gone years without it, any music sounded amazing, and the sound of it alone was enough to naturally relax him.

They rode along, Kurt drumming his fingers with the beat and Blaine watching him cautiously out of the corner of his eye, but as it became evident that Kurt wasn't going to make any crude comments or moves on him, tension Blaine slowly faded from Blaine's shoulders.

"So Blaine," Kurt, who seemed able to masterfully sense Blaine's mood, spoke softly as they waited at a red light. "Tell me about yourself."

Blaine was shocked that someone was taking interest in him, but found himself wanting to open up to Kurt, and that frightened him. He didn't like thinking about his story — it was a part of his past he would rather forget — and had never told it aloud before. Nevertheless, he steeled himself with a grimace and began talking.

"I was eleven when I was marked. There was a boy I—"

"No," Kurt gently stopped him mid sentence. "Tell me about _you_."

The words hit Blaine like a splash of ice cold water. What was he besides his marking? For years he'd lived an empty existence, going through the motions with no purpose and no hope for the future. Who was Blaine Anderson?

"I don't really know what to say," he admitted finally, drawing a frown from Kurt.

"Well let's start with something easier. What kinds of things do you like to do?"

Only one thing came to mind. "I like to read, I guess. We weren't really allowed any free time. But I would pick up discarded books and magazines and sneak them under my mattress to read when I could break away from the group for a bit."

Blaine, whose face had lit up as he spoke about reading, seemed to realize he had said too much, let a secret slip, and he clamped his mouth shut. He waited for Kurt's reaction to his admitted rule-breaking, but Kurt just smiled, keeping his eyes on the road. Now that the fear had dissipated, Blaine found the attraction settling back in. Kurt was beautiful in a way that he'd never seen before, one that was intensified by the compassionate sweetness he showed toward Blaine.

"What is your favorite book?" Kurt asked.

That was an easier question to answer.

" _To Kill A Mockingbird._ "

"Oh, that's a great one. Do you know about the sequel that came out?"

Blaine's face fell. "I heard about it, but I'll never have the chance to read it. I was lucky enough to find a classic that someone had thrown out. It was missing a few pages, but it was my most prized possession."

Kurt cocked his head to the side. "Was?"

"Well I couldn't take anything with me when I ran. I wasn't even supposed to have it in the first place."

Kurt glanced at him sideways. "You know you can have whatever you want now that you're here."

Blaine sat silently, processing what Kurt had said. He didn't know. He didn't understand anything about the obscure rules in Hummel's House. He had yet to be chastised for anything, but still feared the threat of punishment that lurked around every corner.

Kurt did not push the conversation any further, only turned the volume up on the radio and hummed along the rest of the way to the doctor's office, and for that, Blaine was grateful. He smiled to himself as he leaned back against the passenger seat. For the first time in his memory, he felt that he had found someone who could one day _know_ him.

* * *

" _Blaine. Come see me in my room."_

_Ethan had been watching him clean up from the scant dinner they'd scraped together that evening, and now leaned menacingly against the door frame to bark the command at Blaine._

_He sighed quietly, following behind Ethan, who had been after Blaine all week. "Wash my clothes, homo" or "clean my bathroom, faggot" or even "cut my hair. Now." Blaine knew the consequences for not obeying would be far worse than just completing the tasks for Ethan, but he was still tempted to refuse the jerk simply for the satisfaction of seeing his reaction. Ethan had been head boy for all three years Blaine had been in the home, and Blaine could not stand him. He was rude and demanding, and made Blaine extremely uncomfortable._

_Ethan shut his bedroom door behind Blaine and locked it. It was not unusual for the door to be shut when Blaine was cleaning for him, but the ominous click of the lock sent his heart racing. He swallowed down the unexplained feeling of fear and said, "What can I do for you today, Ethan?"_

_Ethan smiled disgustingly at him and walked a few steps closer. "Blaine, you're the best guy in this house. So obedient, always willing to help. But there is one more thing you can do for me."_

_The praise felt dirty, like Blaine needed to scrub it off his skin._

_Then came the words that would change his world._

" _Take off your clothes."_

_Blaine was stunned for a moment. What did Ethan want with him without his clothes? The hungry look in the head boy's eyes and the bulge below his waist answered that question._

_Blaine was quite literally backed into a corner. Screaming would do no good, there was nowhere to run, so the only way out was to go forward._

_He couldn't understand what was happening. Head boys were employees of the home, always unmarked with spotless records. They even condemned the others for being gay._

_Ethan was close enough that Blaine could smell the disgusting mix of sweat and cologne that clung to him. He sighed impatiently._

" _Clothes off. Now!"_

_Blaine, hands trembling, clumsily complied._

_He slipped his shirt over his head, fumbling with his arms in the sleeves. He peeled off his socks one by one. And when he had stalled as long as possible, he moved to his last piece of clothing. The pants took him twice as long as usual to remove because he kept tripping over the legs in his anxiety._

_Too soon, he stood naked and terrified in front of the desperate-looking older teen who was unbuckling his own pants._

" _Turn around. And don't you dare make a sound."_

* * *

The trip to the doctor's office had been much smoother than Blaine had expected. He was, shockingly, clear of any serious illnesses, but was declared significantly underweight and instructed to vastly increase his caloric intake. The doctor never gave a second look to his NC tattoo, which Blaine thought was extremely unusual until Kurt explained that she was a friend of Burt's. He felt, not for the first time, a surge of gratefulness toward Burt, who continually surprised him with his kindness.

The ride back to Hummel's House had been comfortable in a way Blaine hadn't expected. He and Kurt didn't talk much, but when they did, Kurt was nothing but kind and funny, and by the time they returned home, Blaine felt somewhat at ease with Kurt.

For the rest of the afternoon, Blaine busied himself with one of the books on the living room shelf, and when the boys began coming back in from their jobs and schooling for the day, he was happy to sit back and observe them rather than joining in.

It was easy to see that the group was close, even the youngest and the oldest boys. They laughed together and shared tales of their days, close friends who acted more like brothers. It was Sebastian who came to sit by Blaine, and asked him how things were going.

"Weird," was the only response Blaine could articulate.

Sebastian laughed at his description. "Weird how?"

Blaine sighed. He knew Sebastian would never understand, but he did appreciate someone taking the time to check in on him. "Everything here is so different. It's just going to take some time for me to get used to it all."

"It definitely sounds different, if you've never lived with anyone with hair before."

"We all shaved our heads to keep away the lice and other bugs that infested our mattresses and furniture." His matter-of-fact tone and the topic at hand made Sebastian shiver.

"Hmm. What was your hair like before you shaved it?"

Blaine snorted at the odd question. "It was a curly disaster. Jet black. I hated how messy it was, but now I miss it." When he looked back up, Sebastian was looking over him appraisingly.

"It'll be gorgeous when it grows back," he affirmed, causing Blaine to blush. The only compliments about his appearance that he had received in the past six years were completely unwanted in situations where he had no other option, and though he was starting to feel like he was in a safe place at Hummel's House, he could not help but feel as though Sebastian's comment fell in line with those from the other men. He twisted his shoulders away slightly and turned his attention back to the boys in the living room who were now starting up the video game console amid a heated debate about who was the best at the classic first person shooter game they were about to begin.

Sebastian did not leave Blaine's side, but did not initiate any further conversation, which was a relief. Blaine wasn't used to carrying on conversations with anyone anymore, and often felt awkward in the company of others, especially after a comment like the one Sebastian had just made.

He was relieved when Chandler and Jeff offered for him to sit between them at dinner, and he ate in almost happy silence while the banter continued and bounced back and forth all around him. He ambled to his room after dinner, ready to settle back down on his bed with the book he had chosen earlier, exhausted from interacting with so many people and from the enthusiasm in the atmosphere.

"Blaine, you've been added to the shower rotation," Chandler announced, coming in the room quietly. "Just so you know. If you miss your time slot, you lose out. Everyone is ruthless about their bathroom time. You would think we're a bunch of teenage girls, honestly."

Blaine put the book down, spine up, to mark his place and frowned at his roommate. "I showered yesterday when I came in. What do you mean?"

"We have two bathrooms, so seven people to a bathroom. It can get a little hectic, and there was a lot of fighting at first, but Kurt worked out a shower schedule for us. It's posted on the bathroom doors. Your assigned time is 8:15-8:30pm."

"When?"

"I just said. 8:15."

"No, but what day?"

Chandler gave him another strange look. "Every day. Blaine. What kind of shithole did you live in before?"

Blaine felt like his head might explode, overwhelmed yet again at the vast differences between the life he was now living and the nightmare he had endured before.

"Hey guys," Nick peeked his head in the door, interrupting Blaine's thoughts. "Blaine, Kurt is calling for you in his room." He gave a small smile and disappeared quickly.

Blaine's heart froze. His mind flashed back to Ethan demanding his presence in his room, then to the two other head boys he'd had after Ethan. He wanted to scream. He thought things had been going so well with Kurt; he almost trusted him after the time they had spent together earlier that day. He had not expected him to be just like the others. How could something like this be happening to him again?

Shaky legs carried him up both flights of stairs to the upper level of the house against his will. Blood rushed in his ears as he forced himself closer and closer to Kurt's room. He had learned with his other head boys that it was never a good idea to resist, that compliance was the only way, but with Kurt, it seemed so much harder to just give in. Kurt, who had appeared to be different. Kurt, who had asked him about himself. Kurt, the unmarked son of Burt with his soft smiles and caring voice. But as Blaine had learned the hard way, everything that seemed nice in the beginning was too good to be true.

Kurt's door was open a crack when he arrived at the end of the hallway, and Blaine knocked lightly.

"Hey Blaine, come in," Kurt called from out of sight.

Blaine stepped in the room, his body curling protectively in on itself instinctively. He vaguely noticed the rich, homey feeling of the room, enhanced by Kurt's personal touches, like the fabric-draped walls and the ornate, full-size mirror leaning against the wall nearest Blaine.

Kurt appeared through a different doorway with a distracted smile. "Oh good. Let's get started. You get undressed and I'm going to run and get one more thing. Be right back."

The last of Blaine's hope faded with Kurt's retreat, but he knew better than to dwell on his hurt and disappointment. Automatically, his fingers started removing his clothing. He had been in the same position one too many times. A bored, desperate, and straight head boy who was isolated from females his age taking out his sexual frustration on a boy with no rights and no way out. Blaine always seemed to be the one who fell victim to these boys. Ethan always told him it was because Blaine was the most attractive boy he had seen. Blaine's hand subconsciously brushed against the long, jagged scar on his jawline at the memory.

His slightly too large borrowed pants fell to the ground in a puddle and he stepped out. Trying not to hesitate, he quickly hooked his fingers in his briefs and began to pull them down when a surprised gasp rang out from behind him.

"Blaine stop! I mean…" Kurt cleared his throat awkwardly as Blaine froze and turned to look at him. "I mean, you can leave those on." He carried a bag full of something Blaine could not identify, knuckles whitening around the straps.

"I'm sorry," Blaine apologized, reprimanding himself for his error. In an attempt to correct his mistake, He dropped his head, sinking to his knees, and looking up at Kurt through his eyelashes. "Would you prefer my mouth?"

"Jesus Blaine, no!" Kurt looked horrified and Blaine was suddenly extremely self-conscious. Had Kurt decided he didn't like the way he looked? He tried willing himself to get an erection to show Kurt that he was worth it, but he could not find it in himself. "What are you doing? Please get up!"

Blaine scrambled to his feet and apologized again. "What would you like from me, then, Kurt?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you want to fuck me?" Blaine asked bluntly.

"Oh my god." Kurt slapped a hand over his mouth.

Blaine blushed all the way to his chest and looked down again. He was getting it all wrong. Maybe it was better to just wait for instructions.

"Put this on," Kurt said a moment later as he handed him a robe made of an unbelievably soft material and turned away.

Blaine could not make sense of the direction, but obeyed. He knew his body was too thin and pale, but none of the other head boys had cared before. They just wanted a quick, easy fuck.

When Kurt turned back around, Blaine was waiting patiently.

"Why do you think that... _that_ is what I want from you?" Kurt asked, confusion and softness in his voice.

"The other head boys have always had me do that for them. Nick said you needed me in your room and then you told me to get undressed, so…Why? Do you not want that from me? I promise I can satisfy you."

"Oh, Blaine," Kurt had tears in his eyes. "Didn't Nick tell you why I wanted to see you up here? I just finished making your clothes and I wanted you to try them on to make sure they fit. That's why I asked you to—" Kurt broke off with a choked sob. "I am _so_ sorry, Blaine. I didn't mean to make you think that. I had no idea that you'd gone through someone—" he could not even finish the thought.

Blaine's brain was racing to try to keep up with the new information Kurt had given him. Kurt had never wanted him for sex. And he was apologizing profusely for the misunderstanding. Before he knew what was happening, Blaine was exploding in tears, the first time he had cried in six years.

Kurt gently took his shoulders and steered him to sit on the edge of the bed, keeping a respectful distance between them, but remaining close enough to soothe him.

When Blaine finally caught his breath, he looked up to find that Kurt was crying as well.

"Why are _you_ crying?" Blaine asked through his tears.

"I'm upset that I made you feel this way. And I'm sad for you. Who would do something like that to a sweet boy like you?"

The compliment didn't feel dirty coming from Kurt. "You'd be surprised. I'm nothing. I have no rights."

"You're not nothing."

The fierceness in his voice made Blaine jump.

He took a few shuddering breaths and dried his tears with the sleeve of Kurt's robe. "I'm really, truly safe here, aren't I?" he asked incredulously. Kurt held out an arm with a questioning glance and Blaine nodded, understanding his request for permission. Kurt slipped an arm around Blaine's shoulders and squeezed.

"You are. I promise I'll never let anything like that happen to you again."

* * *

After Blaine calmed down, Kurt, heartbroken for the boy who had lost his innocence too soon, had sent him off to shower with the bag of new clothes in tow and instructions to return it they did not fit.

Until Blaine arrived, Kurt had been blind to the awful conditions for NCs outside of Hummel's Home. Burt had always sheltered and protected him from the horrors of reality by managing his own home, and now more than ever, Kurt hated the law and the maltreatment it allowed and even encouraged.

He busied himself with wrapping up the purchase he had made earlier during Blaine's appointment. There was not much he could do for Blaine aside from showing him that there was someone out there who cared about him, but that was enough for the moment. He tiptoed downstairs and left the rectangular packages just outside Blaine and Chandler's door with Blaine's name on an attached note.

He watched from a hidden spot down the hall when Blaine returned to his room after showering, smiling and wearing his new pajamas. He nearly tripped over the gifts before bending down to pick them up, disbelief coloring his features as he saw that they were intended for him. He unwrapped them carefully and an awed expression spread across his face while a single tear rolled down his cheek as he hugged to his chest his brand new copies of _To Kill a Mockingbird_ and _Go Set a Watchman._

Kurt felt an intense protectiveness over the other boy that he could not explain. Watching him just then, Kurt knew he was looking at the person who had the power to destroy everything he'd worked tirelessly to control for his entire life.

Terrifyingly, he somehow knew that Blaine was worth the risk.


	5. Therapy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize again for missing my update last week, but vacation was amazing! :)
> 
> Warnings for this chapter include past self-harm, descriptions of conversion therapy, and brief mentions of past non-con and even briefer mentions of violence.
> 
> But lots and lots of good things in there too, I promise. And the future only looks brighter. ;)

 

"Time is up," called Blaine's new tutor as a timer rang out from his desk. Simultaneously grudging and relieved, Blaine set down his pencil.

Before he could begin classes, he needed to take a placement test in the core areas. It was too many hours long and made his eyes hurt and the difficulty of questions made him feel like an idiot. While he wished he had another hour to finish, he could not have been happier that it was over.

He rubbed his face to smooth out the creases that had formed in his intense concentration. His head ached with how hard he had worked for the past few hours and with the worry that he hadn't done well. The questions had been hard, but he knew he should have known the answers.

"Thanks, Blaine. I'll start scoring this and you are free to leave for the rest of the afternoon. I'll send you the results later and we will start your courses next Tuesday."

Blaine nodded his understanding and left the tutoring room. He was not used to having any free time, and was quite unsure what to do with himself. Not in the mood to read after how he had spent the day, he wandered through the house and found himself in the kitchen.

It had only been two days, but with a steady three meals daily, Blaine already found it harder to ignore his hunger, on the rare occasion it made itself known.

He looked longingly at the bowl of fruit on the island counter. It looked fresh and bright and there were no bugs buzzing around rotting flesh.

"Take one."

The voice did not make him jump as it might have just a day earlier. Instead, a smile spread across his face and he turned around to greet Kurt. Seeing Kurt's face for the first time since the night before, he was met with a growing sense of calm and trusting, something he never thought he would feel again.

"Hi."

"Hi." Kurt smiled in his way that seemed to be reserved for Blaine alone, and Blaine's heart fluttered in response.

_Stop that right now,_ he commanded himself. _It's impossible._ He played with the collar of his shirt as Kurt came closer.

"I didn't see you this morning at breakfast."

Kurt shrugged apologetically. "I try to stay out of the way when the guys are around. I'm usually in the kitchen or up in my room."

Blaine filed that information away for another time. He looked up bashfully. "I wanted to say thank you for the books. It is the most thoughtful thing anyone has done for me in my whole life."

"It's the least I could do," Kurt was blushing as well, but held eye contact, and that feeling of being understood hit Blaine again.

"You're doing enough just by being there for me," Blaine confessed.

Kurt didn't seem to know what to say, just took another half step closer. If Blaine reached out, he could easily touch Kurt.

A second later, Kurt jumped back, blushing even more furiously, when Burt came into the room, grumbling about being a horrible cook.

"I roped dad into helping with dinner," Kurt explained.

"Hi Blaine," Burt said. He noticed Blaine staring at the fruit bowl again, and taking a more direct approach, placed an apple directly in his hand. "The doctor said you need to eat. Help yourself anytime."

Knowing it would be a difficult rule to follow, Blaine nodded anyway, committing himself to following Burt's rules, which seemed to be in his best interest. The thought brought back the twinge in his temples.

Kurt, before busying himself taking ingredients and cutting boards out of the fridge and cabinets, brushed past Blaine and whispered, "is everything okay?"

Blaine nodded with a small smile. Because as horrible as he felt after taking the exam, he really was doing exceptionally well. He had food, a clean and comfortable place to live, and people he genuinely liked being around, who he was starting to trust. Including a boy with a big heart. A very attractive boy with a big heart.

"Is there anything I can help with?" Blaine asked, taking a bite from his delicious apple.

"Sure!" Kurt answered enthusiastically, showing Burt and Blaine how to clean and dice the vegetables for the soup he was making. They worked harmoniously in silence for a few minutes before Kurt spoke. "So how was your first day of tutoring, Blaine?"

Blaine looked down at his red pepper with a frown. "It was just the placement test today to see where I should begin learning. I really don't think I did very well."

"Hey, that's okay. I never went to college, and I didn't do that great in high school either. Not all of us can be as smart as Kurt here," Burt said with a chuckle.

"Dad!" Kurt admonished. "Blaine _is_ smart. He just hasn't had the opportunity to learn like I have. He loves to read, did you know that?" He sent Blaine that special smile over his shoulder and Blaine's hand almost slipped around the knife, nearly cutting his finger.

When he regained composure, he caught sight of Burt with his mouth slightly agape, looking back and forth between the two teenagers, but Kurt was studiously ignoring him. Blaine shrugged and returned to his meal preparations with Kurt humming happily nearby.

A short while later, Burt saw the time and set down what he was working on with an exclamation of surprise.

"Blaine, I completely forgot to let you know that Dr. Pillsbury is stopping by early today so you can have an extra therapy session this week. You can probably go down there any time now."

Blaine's blood ran cold at the word. _Therapy._ The government liked to call it "treatment" or "healing." It was not either. They knew as well as Blaine did that there was no cure for homosexuality. The only thing it succeeded in doing was making the boys and girls scared to death of their sexuality. It made teenagers feel ashamed, wrong, and humiliated, and even drove many to self-injurious behavior or worse.

But Blaine and the rest of the NCs knew that being "cured" through therapy was their ticket out, so they endured.

* * *

_Blaine_ hated _the therapy room at the home. It was as dingy and moldy as the rest of the house, but was its own special kind of hell. There was a single lamp on a table by a leather recliner where the therapist sat, a television set, a stand-alone cabinet that was in desperate need of a paint job, and a wooden chair whose legs all appeared to be different lengths._

_The wobbly chair was where Blaine had sat twice a week since he first arrived to the home four years prior, dutifully enduring his hour-long sessions with the demon that was Dr. Daly._

_The doctor was tall and thin with permanent scowl lines etched into his skin. His eyes were small and almost black and always full of disgust. He hated the boys at the house because of the markings on their arms, and truly believed in his archaic methods of conversion._

" _Good evening Anderson," he drawled as Blaine entered the room and sat in the wooden chair. He nudged a small, white paper cup forward with his knuckle, not even bothering to look up at his patient. Blaine knew the drill by then. He took the cup and swallowed down the offending green pill that he knew would make him feel miserable in just a short time, then sat back._

" _Have you participated in any deviant activities since the last time we met?" Dr. Daly began, moving down his standard list of questions._

" _No, sir."_

" _Have you experienced any intrusive thoughts about anyone of your own gender since the last time we met?"_

" _No, sir."_

" _Good. How are you feeling?"_

_Blaine assessed himself, feeling fine at the moment, but knew the medication would take effect at any second._

_Sure enough, the first wave of nausea hit him moments later._

" _I'm ready," he groaned, shivering as a cold sweat broke out over his face and back._

" _Let's begin." Dr. Daly pushed play on a DVD and turned his back to the television, busying himself with scribbling something._

_When Blaine had first begun therapy at the home, he had only been eleven years old, so after taking the medication, he would be shown relatively innocent images of attractive boys his age, two boys kissing, or given stories to read about two boys who fell in love. Now that he was older, things had progressed, and he was shown pornographic videos or photographs of gay men and forced to sit through them while the medicine made him feel like vomiting._

_Unfortunately for Dr. Daly and the government, the only thing the "conversion therapy" succeeded in was making Blaine angrier and more motivated to hide his sexuality. At the end of the day, when the effects of the pill faded, he was still attracted to men, and that would never change._

_He was in the middle of retching into a garbage can when he heard the commotion. Screams, bangs, and shouting came from just outside the room._

" _Daly, I need your help!" shouted Kate from the hallway._

_The therapist jumped to his feet and ran out the door, leaving Blaine behind, clutching his stomach and the trash can._

_Blaine stumbled out behind him into the hallway, fighting the awful nauseous feeling to see what was happening._

_Kate and Charlie (the head boy who had taken over after Ethan moved away for college), each had a screaming resident in a headlock, though Kate's was breaking loose. Dr. Daly rushed to help her._

" _Let me go! I did nothing!" one of the boys shouted. Blaine was saddened to realize that the boy had been in the home such a short time that he did not know his name._

" _Any type of that sickening behavior is against the rules," Kate spat._

" _All I did was hug him because he was crying! And he was only upset because you assholes make us feel like shit just for being gay!" the other boy argued, struggling against Charlie's hold._

" _We do not touch, and we do not use the 'G' word," Kate reprimanded snidely as Daly and Charlie dragged the boys out the back door._

_The screaming worsened before it stopped._

_The boys' beds were occupied by new residents by the next evening._

* * *

With Kurt's concerned gaze on him, Blaine barely restrained himself from kicking the floor as he left the kitchen. No matter how many things were good at Hummel's House, the government mandated therapy would never change.

Resigned, he started to turn the corner toward the tutoring and therapy rooms, but just before he was out of earshot, he heard Burt utter an elongated and knowing "Uh-huh," followed by a too-innocent "What?" from Kurt and a chuckle from Burt.

Their exchange was strange, but Blaine was too preoccupied dreading what was to come to dwell on what it could mean.

Down the hall, the door to the therapy room was open, a large-eyed red headed woman sitting primly in an armchair, obviously waiting for him.

"Blaine?" she asked, and he confirmed with a nod. "Come on in."

He hated that he immediately felt some relief that Dr. Pillsbury was a woman, but she just looked so non-threatening. The room had a calming effect as well, painted in blues and filled with trinkets and photographs of smiling groups of past residents. He sat down stiffly across from the doctor, tendons in his hands clearly visible as he gripped the edge of the arms of the chair.

"Hello Blaine, my name is Emma Pillsbury, but I'd like it if you would feel comfortable enough to call me Emma."

Blaine hid a snort. As if he could ever feel comfortable around a therapist.

"Let's just get to it," he said through a clenched jaw, eyes darting around in suspicion. "Where's my pill?"

Dr. Pillsbury flipped back through the pages of his file, searching for something. "I haven't prescribed you anything yet. Why do you ask? Were you taking a medication in your last home?"

"Just the...never mind." Maybe this doctor did things differently. He sure wouldn't be upset if he never had to take one of those green pills of torture again in his lifetime.

She watched him carefully for a moment before moving on. "I'd like to spend today getting to know you. Can you tell me a little about how you came to be here?"

Blaine hesitated, but started talking, giving just the barest details of the events surrounding his marking. The doctor was engaged and focused on him while he spoke, never judging, and asking simple questions when he seemed stuck that helped him back on track. As the session went on and Blaine realized that the docile, gentle woman was not going to try any of the traditional techniques he was used to and seemed to truly want to know him, he spoke more and more freely, opening up about his experiences in his previous home, the contrast of Hummel's, and how difficult he was finding it to adapt.

"Sometimes it's so confusing that I actually get headaches or have a hard time catching my breath," he admitted.

"That's understandable, it sounds like things here are very different from what you've known for the past few years."

"Including you."

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"My therapists before gave me pills to make me sick, and even threatened shock therapy to try to correct me."

Dr. Pillsbury paled. "I've heard of those methods. We're all trained in 'conversion therapy,' but I refuse to do that. There is nothing about you that needs to be corrected, Blaine," she stated calmly.

"Even the reason I'm in this program to begin with?" he challenged, flashing his NC mark. "My illness?"

But Dr. Pillsbury only shook her head sadly. "Homosexuality is not an illness. I know you've been told differently by the government, society, and your previous house manager and therapist, but Blaine, it's okay to be gay."

He was pretty sure he blacked out while she continued talking. Nobody had ever said those words to him before. Nobody had ever taken a look at him and accepted him for who he was. It was a dizzying thing to experience for the first time.

When he came back to awareness, the therapist was asking him more questions and he tried to answer coherently through the intensifying pain in his head.

By the end of the session, she had prescribed him medication for his previously undiagnosed depression and anxiety, and Blaine found that he actually wanted to take the medicine, and even more spectacularly, that he actually wanted to come back for another session.

Looking at the clock, he was shocked to see that he had been talking to Dr. Pillsbury for over two hours, and that dinner was wrapping up. He wandered by the dining room on the way to his bedroom, stopping when Burt flagged him down.

"Hey kid, I put a plate aside for you. It's on the counter in the kitchen. You better get it now before these vultures can swipe it," he laughed.

Blaine cracked a smile at the thoughtfulness and retrieved his food. He sat in the empty seat between Sebastian and one of the younger boys, and Sebastian moved his chair in too closely, asking Blaine how his day was in a low voice.

"Fuck off, Seb," Nick rolled his eyes in their direction. "Blaine is not interested in you."

"I'm just trying to make a new friend," Sebastian said innocently.

"Yeah, a friend who'll suck your d—"

"BOYS," Burt cut off. "Enough. Sebastian, give Blaine a little space, please.

Blaine felt relieved as Sebastian moved away, and scooped a bite of the soup they'd made that afternoon into his mouth to distract himself. Kurt came silently through the room then, to begin clean up from dinner, but none of the boys paid him any mind, nor did he look at or try to engage any of them. At the last second before he turned the corner to the kitchen, he looked up and caught Blaine's eye with a tiny wave.

"Chandler, how was work with crotchety old Greg today?" Jeff asked, changing the subject.

"Ugh. He stood behind me and watched me work over my shoulder the entire time. I almost spelled tomatoes wrong just to mess with him."

"Chandler's boss is the grumpiest old man in the universe, but he's got a sweet gig going with him. He hand letters signs for the market in town," Sebastian explained, leaning in close to Blaine's ear.

Blaine spread his elbows wide to force Sebastian back slightly, but could not pay him much mind. He was reeling over the idea that Chandler's job sounded so pleasant.

He took a deep breath and tried to regain his composure. "Oh, are you an artist, Chandler?" he asked.

"Yeah, you should see the portrait he drew of you while you were sleeping last night," Jeff joked.

" _Oh my god,_ he's totally kidding," Chandler interjected amidst howling laughter from everyone else at the table.

Blaine felt a strange tug inside of him. His head still hurt from the day's activities, and he was still as confused as he had been on day one by the friendly atmosphere of the home, but instead of being freaked out by Jeff's joke, he almost wanted to laugh along with them.

Nick stood, still chuckling, and disappeared from the room for a minute. He returned with two full glasses of water, and set one down in front of Jeff, who turned his head and pecked him on the lips. "Thanks, babe."

The glass Blaine had halfway to his lips slipped out of his hand and crashed to the ground, contents splattering every which way. Heads turned to look at him as he stared at the couple who now stood frozen in front of him.

Nobody batted an eye at the public display of affection between the two boys, and it dawned on Blaine that Nick and Jeff's relationship was accepted here, and that nobody was going to haul them off never to be seen again.

He grew dizzy, breath coming in gasps, as he tried maneuvering his way to the couch and away from people to help fight off his panic, but couldn't see through his blurry vision so he ended up sitting on the ground just behind his chair.

Time seemed to fast forward at warp speed, and the next thing he knew, Chandler was gripping his elbow and helping him to bed. He left the lights off and once he verified that Blaine was slowly calming, he shut Blaine in alone.

Blaine must have dozed off, exhausted from his episode, because he woke to Burt coming by a while later, having filled the prescriptions that Emma had written. He helped Blaine sit up to take them.

"I know everything is overwhelming and new right now," Burt told him. "It must have come as a surprise to you to see Nick and Jeff like that when people from your old home were probably punished for much less. But you boys have to hide who you are out in the world for the rest of your lives. I believe that the least you deserve is to be yourselves in the safety of our home."

Blaine's tongue felt four sizes too big when he tried swallowing. Burt seemed to realize that Blaine couldn't formulate a sensible thought, let alone a sentence, so he turned to leave.

"Oh, I forgot," he said, setting an envelope on his nightstand. "Here are the results of your placement test. Your comprehension and composition skills were age level, and you'll begin at the sixth grade level for all other subjects. You'll start your coursework next week." He paused once more on his way out the door. "Have a good night. And Blaine? Please don't hesitate to come to me if you need anything."

The moment the door closed between them, Blaine broke down again. Burt was so kind and unexpected and everything Blaine had hoped for in a house manager but never thought he would have. Contrary to what he had said, Blaine had a hard time believing that he deserved it. And on top of everything else, his test results had proven that he was an idiot. He focused on his breathing to stop his tears.

Not too much later, another knock came on the door.

"Can I come in?"

Kurt. Blaine lifted his head from where they had been resting on his knees, which were curled up to his chest. "Yeah," he called softly.

"Hey," Kurt whispered, pulling a chair up to the edge of Blaine's bed, but mercifully leaving the lights off. Blaine could not have handled for Kurt to see his puffy, tear-stained face. He could still easily make out Kurt's silhouette and some details of his face more dimly. "I heard you were having a rough day."

Blaine laughed humorlessly. "I was diagnosed with a mental illness, my whole worldview was thrown out of perspective, had a panic attack, and I've been told I'm only as smart as a middle schooler. And yet this doesn't even rank as one of my worst days." He felt Kurt shift next to him and wished, for the first time since he could remember, that someone would touch him. But Kurt was keeping his hands to himself, probably purposefully.

"How are you feeling?" Kurt asked.

"Less anxious already since taking my new meds. Embarrassed about my test results. Out of control of my feelings, really. Every time I think I'm getting a grip on my new life here, something new tips me on my head."

"Nick and Jeff?"

"And Dr. Pillsbury. Do you know what kind of hell I had to go through in therapy before? I had to take pills that made me nauseated and jerk off to pictures and videos of men to try to turn me straight. It was fucking sick. And then I come here and therapy is talking about my feelings and treating actual medical conditions and boys are allowed to kiss and be in love and I don't know what to do with all of this."

He tried to tug at his nonexistent hair, but upon finding nothing, his fingers found their way to his jawline to rub obsessively over his scar.

Kurt's hand twitched but he only leaned slightly toward Blaine, eyes fixed on him.

"You're wondering about this scar," Blaine said, and it was not a question. "It's not a nice story."

"You don't have to share it," Kurt assured him.

"I _want_ to," Blaine told him incredulously, realizing it for the first time. He laid down and curled up on his side, facing Kurt. "I've told you how I was treated by my head boys. It wasn't just them." He heard a quiet gasp and felt Kurt tense up beside him. "I started wondering why it was happening to me and not to anyone else. One recurring comment from the different men was that I was beautiful. I quickly realized that if I wasn't attractive anymore, they wouldn't want me. I didn't want to be beautiful anymore if that was what it cursed me with. So I stole a knife from the kitchen one night and took it to the bathroom with the intention of destroying any chance of being called that horrible word anymore. But just as I started to cut, someone grabbed my wrist from behind me, and I missed my target. Instead, I ended up with this scar. But do you know what the only thing was that I could think? That it was the first and only time since I had been marked that someone touched me with good intentions." It was the first time Blaine had relived the story, even to himself, and it knocked the breath out of him just to remember that day.

"Christ, Blaine." Kurt's voice was watery and Blaine realized he was holding back tears. "I am so sorry."

Blaine's voice wavered when he spoke next. "That night was a turning point for me. Something snapped and I abandoned my youthful innocence. I decided that if I could not control what happened to me, I could at least try to control the conditions on which it happened."

Only the sound of sniffles and uneven breaths filled the air.

"I'm disgusting," Blaine gasped. "I'm worthless."

Eyes shut tightly to block out the world, Blaine could only hear what was coming before he felt it. Slowly, to give Blaine time to reject him, Kurt's smooth, warm fingers slid across the top of his hand and held on loosely.

The contact felt so good, like Blaine had been missing a critical part of himself and Kurt had returned it just with his touch. He shuddered under the intensity of the sensation, but it was so soothing to have someone's warm hand on his — someone he was coming to trust — that his tears abated and he slowly drifted off to sleep.

The last thing he registered was Kurt's voice whispering, "You're not. You're worth it all."


	6. Jobs

 

Blaine awoke the next morning with a crinkled piece of paper in his hand.

_I should be upstairs most of the day tomorrow. Come see me if you'd like._

_K_

His memories of the previous night were hazy, but after a few minutes, Blaine recalled the events that had transpired.

Thankfully his head felt better after a good night's sleep, but his chest was sore, probably from all of the gasping for air, and he could feel the knots in his back and shoulders from the tension. Underneath the discomfort, though, a warmth bloomed in his heart at the memory of falling asleep with Kurt's hand on his. He had craved a touch from someone he felt safe with for as long as he could remember, so much so that the tiny gesture felt almost overwhelming, but in a most welcome way.

Blaine continued taking inventory of himself, and realized that he felt remarkably calm that morning. Perhaps it was the medication, or that he'd let the panic run its course, or maybe it was the knowledge that he was in a safe place with people who cared about him. He smiled as he recognized that he was finally beginning to accept it.

It was Sunday, Blaine realized as he stretched his arms over his head, and remembered what he had been told when he first moved in. Sundays were off days for everyone in the home, to promote relaxation and bonding.

The bed next to him was still occupied by a sleeping Chandler, so Blaine slipped quietly out of bed, and after a quick trip to the restroom, found his way to the kitchen.

Sundays brought visions of large brunches and loud conversation, but Blaine was surprised to find only a few of the boys awake, and that the dining table, usually laid out with abundant food, was empty.

On the kitchen island, a box of donuts and pastries had been propped open alongside a bowl of fruit and pitchers of juice and milk. The coffee maker was running, the aroma of freshly ground beans deliciously permeating the air.

Blaine poured himself a mug of coffee, still feeling slightly apprehensive about taking food and drinks whenever he wanted them, but knowing that Burt encouraged it helped him grow more comfortable with the idea each day.

Being the only one in the kitchen, It was apparent that Sunday breakfast, unlike every other day, was an individual event. It made sense for there to be nothing formal scheduled, since the boys were allowed to sleep in, but the silence was strange. Blaine had already grown used to the playful fighting and mindless chitchat of his fellow residents during meals.

He took a mouthwatering grasshopper donut and another large apple and ambled out into the den.

A few younger boys were gathered at one end of the dining table, and Blaine waved to them as he passed. Nick and Jeff were cuddled up together under a blanket on the couch, pretending to watch cartoons, but were really having a whispered conversation.

"He totally freaked out."

"I know. I felt so bad. But why?"

"Didn't you hear Burt? His old home was a shitshow. Apparently most of them are. We're really, really lucky, Nicky. We wouldn't be able to be together anywhere else." They leaned their heads together affectionately.

"I just want Blaine to feel better."

"I do," Blaine interrupted. He came around the couch and sat on a nearby beanbag. Nick and Jeff sat up and separated by a few inches. "I do feel better every day that I'm here. Sorry for listening in."

"Were things really that bad for you before?" Nick asked softly.

Blaine nodded. "I don't really like talking about it, but yes. You have no idea how amazing it is here. There's food, it's clean, everyone is healthy and happy, and Burt is unbelievable."

"We're really sorry for setting off your panic attack last night. We had no idea."

"It's okay," Blaine said honestly. "You need to take every chance you can get to be yourselves. It's only a matter of time until we age out of the home, and then who knows where we will be."

Jeff squeezed Nick's hand. "Wherever it is, we will find a way to be together after we graduate."

"Graduate? Don't you mean age out?" Blaine asked. It seemed pretty presumptuous for them to assume they'd pass and be labeled "cured," especially as a known same-sex couple.

Nick shrugged. "Same thing."

Blaine wanted to argue, but a newcomer joined their group.

"'Morning," mumbled Sebastian, looking sleep-rumpled and clutching a steaming mug of coffee like a lifeline. He settled into a second bean bag next to Blaine. "How are you feeling today? We were really worried about you," he said to Blaine with no trace of sarcasm or humor.

"I'm doing much better," Blaine replied, flushing at the concern that Sebastian was expressing for him. "Thank you for asking."

"Of course. Let me know if there is anything I can do in the future." Blaine nodded in agreement. "So," Sebastian continued. "Are you ready for your first Sunday at Hummel's?"

"Uh...what does that mean? Should I be prepared for something?"

Sebastian laughed softly and Blaine felt, for the first time, at ease around him, like he could actually be a friend.

"Only for a lot of fun. Sundays are the best. Stick with me and I promise you'll have an amazing time."

And Blaine learned, over the rest of the day, that Sebastian's words were actually an understatement. They, along with Chandler, Jeff, and Nick, played games, watched movies, and watched some of the other guys (badly) perform their versions of hit songs on the karaoke machine. They eventually tired of their housemates' screeching, and Nick, Jeff, and Sebastian took over the microphones to show the younger boys how it was done. Blaine noted how Sebastian's eyes never strayed from him when they sang a flirty love song, but otherwise watched on, impressed.

It was Blaine's first chance to really get to know everyone without his guard up. There was no pressure, no expectations, just a dozen teenagers enjoying themselves, and Blaine couldn't help but to wonder if that is what his life would have been like had he never been marked. For just a moment, he closed his eyes and pretended.

By the time late evening rolled around and dinner had been cleaned up, Blaine was content and exhausted. He excused himself when the boys decided to put on the Jurassic Park movies. It had been a wonderful day, but he needed a break. Being around so many people was something on which he had once thrived. Now it drained his energy, but in a good way.

He recalled Kurt's note from the morning, which had been at the back of his mind all day, and waited until the movie had started. His housemates were so engrossed in the dinosaurs on screen that he didn't think anyone noticed him slipping away up the stairs.

Kurt responded to his knock immediately, opening the door and stepping aside to allow Blaine in.

"Hi Blaine," Kurt said in that way that made Blaine feel like his words were meant only for him. "I was hoping I'd see you today."

Blaine shot him a dazzling smile. He had chanced a look in the mirror that afternoon and noticed that his natural color was slowly coming back to him, and his cheeks looked less sunken already. He could not explain his desire for Kurt to find him attractive, but it was all he wanted in that moment. "The guys are growing on me. Even Sebastian is nice. But I really just wanted to get away and spend some time with you."

That made Kurt blush as he sat on the edge of his bed, but he bit his lip, clearly holding something back.

"What?"

"Blaine, I know you can take care of yourself, just...be careful around Sebastian, okay? He's not such a bad guy, but when he wants something, he won't let anything stop him."

Blaine wondered what Sebastian had done in the past to warrant the words of caution. He had a hard time believing that Sebastian would hurt him after how kind and friendly he had been that day, but he trusted Kurt more than anyone in his new life aside from Burt, and he knew it was important to heed his warning.

"I will," he confirmed.

"So, what did you have in mind for us tonight?" Kurt asked, changing the subject.

Blaine shrugged. "Maybe we could listen to music together again?"

Kurt's face brightened. "I'd love to."

So they spent the evening listening to album after album and making a list of songs that Blaine liked so that Kurt could make a playlist for him.

Every minute they spent together forged a stronger connection between the two as they realized that they had finally found someone to confide in.

* * *

_Working seven days a week doing hard labor or dirty, undesirable jobs was not unusual for NCs, Blaine had quickly learned, and their wages were meager at best. Kate required her residents to turn over the minuscule amount of money they received for their work, under the guise of it paying for extra food and upgrades to the home. Rarely was the income used in such a way, more likely cushioning her bank account while the teenagers suffered through in terrible living conditions and survived off of little food._

_One of the few regulations regarding adolescent NC life, and their work in particular, was that it was illegal for them to be hired for any kind of sex work._

_The restriction, of course, only fueled the market for such services, and house managers could sometimes be persuaded to rent out their boys or girls for significant sums of money that they, of course, accepted under the table and promptly pocketed._

_It was no surprise to Blaine to find out that Kate was partaking in the illegal sex trade for her own profit, and only slightly surprising for him to wake up one morning and see a man's name next to his on the job assignment chart._

_After that first day, Blaine felt even dirtier and more worthless than he had with Ethan. He did not know how he had pulled through without becoming sick. The wad of money he carried back to the house was heavy with shame._

_His client must have been pleased with his performance, though, because more and more frequently, Blaine found himself in the beds of various men. It did not take long for him to learn to close himself off and fall into numbness, but each day that he returned to the home and shoved the money as hastily as he could into Kate's "house funds" jar, he lost a small part of himself._

_Everything in his life was so far beyond his control, and that was what Blaine hated more than anything._

* * *

Monday morning breakfast was much more lively than Sunday, and Blaine realized that he had missed the boys' happy chattering over pancakes, or whatever else Kurt had whipped up that day.

The half of the boys that had work that day were grumbling about it, and the half that had tutoring were grumbling about that, but complaints aside, everyone was exceptionally happy for a Monday morning.

Blaine had yet to look at the job chart that Burt had posted the night before; he was too nervous. Burt may have acted like an upstanding man so far, but the allure of the extra pocket money from the men hiring boys for sex could be irresistible, even to the best of people. And if he wasn't going out to serve in someone's bed, the alternatives, though better, were also dismal. He thought enviously of Chandler's job and wondered how lucky he would have to be to find something like that.

They finished up their breakfasts, taking plates and cups to the kitchen where Kurt had already begun washing dishes. The warm smile Kurt gave him was enough to give Blaine the courage to walk over apprehensively to look at the assignments. He blinked in confusion for a minute when the spot next to his name was blank.

"Um...Burt?" he asked tentatively as the house manager walked by. "Why is my assignment blank?"

"Oh! I didn't have time to update it this morning. It took me a while to find a job on such short notice, but Mr. Christensen called last night and requested our best looking boy. I told him he was in luck, because our best looking boy happened to be free today." Burt's wink was accompanied by a nudge to Blaine's ribs.

Blaine, heart sinking, nodded and headed unceremoniously to the front of the house to wait for his ride. Until that moment, he had not realized that though he knew being sent out for sex work was a possibility, deep down he truly had not expected Burt to be involved in the trade.

Blaine was in somewhat of a haze, but thankfully was not panicking. He attributed it to his new anti anxiety medication, or at least the placebo effect. He kicked himself for falling so hard and letting his Fuad down. He should have known that things at Hummel's Home were too good to be true. Not everything could be perfect. He couldn't even blame Burt for wanting the extra income. He had his kid to take care of, and if it meant the rest of the boys could live comfortably, Blaine would steel himself and do whatever needed to be done.

The ride to Mr. Christensen's house was spent preparing himself mentally to go back into the numb space he'd so artfully crafted and compartmentalized from the rest of his emotions years ago. He would never be prepared to be violated in such a way, but at least he was used to it.

The house where the van dropped him off was unsurprisingly nice. Most of the men who hired NCs were well off. But Mr. Christensen himself was not what Blaine expected at all.

The usual client was older, typically overweight and balding, and unhappily married to a woman. Mr. Christensen could not have been a day over thirty-five, and was smiling eagerly while holding the hand of a stunning woman to whom Blaine could only assume he was married. He sighed. It would not be his first threesome, nor his first including a woman.

"Hi!" they waved to him excitedly. "Blaine, right? We really lucked out that Burt happened to have someone as adorable as you available today!"

The woman was bouncy and bubbly as she ushered Blaine into the sitting room.

The first thing Blaine noticed were the boxes stacked everywhere. Then he saw the camera and lights. He grew infinitely more nervous about what he would be asked to do.

"I'm Carly, and this is Dallas, my husband," the woman said as she offered him a cup of iced tea and shook his hand.

"Nice to meet you. Excuse me, but what am I here for?" Blaine asked them as politely as possible. Better to know what was in store rather than having it sprung on him.

"Oh! Burt didn't tell you? I'm sorry!" Dallas hurried to explain. "We run an online shop where we sell shirts and other merchandise that we print ourselves. We are launching a new website and need photographs of our new stock. You're going to be the perfect model."

Modeling. Blaine's lungs filled with air again and he let out a laugh that must have sounded maniacal. Everything would be all right after all.

* * *

Blaine had had the most wonderful day of work. The Christensens were delightful people who were a blast to work with. He left with money in his pocket (including a generous tip), a full heart, and a promise by his employers to request him next time they needed someone.

When he returned to Hummel's Home, he found Burt in his office.

"Blaine!" Burt greeted him. "What can I do for you?"

"I have my money from work today. What should I do with it?"

Burt swiveled around and gestured to a set of numbered boxes behind him. "You're number six. Sorry if it seems impersonal, but I'm sure you understand why we can't have your names on them."

"I'm sorry, what?" Blaine struggled to keep up.

"Since you can't legally have a bank account, we keep the money you earn in these boxes. Then you take the box with you when you leave."

"So you don't—no, of course you don't," he muttered to himself in shock and awe.

"Something the matter?"

"I thought I was going out on a sex job today," Blaine blurted out.

"WHAT?! That's illegal!" Burt shouted in outrage, banging his fists on the desk in front of him.

Blaine shrugged. "The other house managers don't care how legal it is, if the price is right."

"Oh hell, Blaine." Burt deflated and rubbed his eyes. "What the fuck did they do to you?"

Silence fell over them.

"So I get to keep the money I earn?" Blaine asked hesitantly after a pause.

"Every last cent of it. My hope is that you'll be able to use it for rent or tuition later on."

"I've never had money before," Blaine whispered as he stared at the cash in his hand. Then, louder, "I'm so sorry I doubted you earlier."

"Don't be. It's not your fault that your only examples are shitty people who treated you like garbage." Burt sounded angry. "For the record, Blaine, I only send my boys out on jobs to people I know personally and trust. I take your well-being very, very seriously. If anything bad ever happens to you on a job or under my roof, you come to me immediately. Deal?"

Blaine's throat tightened as Burt spoke, but a rush of trust and respect came over him as he agreed.

"Deal."

* * *

Blaine kept to himself the rest of the day, quietly lost inside his thoughts throughout dinner while the other boys joked around. After the meal, he decided to head outside for some much needed peace and solitude, and time to process. The backyard was a sanctuary for the boys in the home, well kept up by some of the younger residents. It was relaxing, and though he was handling adjusting to things better each day, Blaine figured he needed nothing more at the moment.

He carefully shut the door to the house behind him and turned to find that he was not alone.

Kurt, who was leaning against the patio railing, turned at the noise. Seeing Kurt's face was like a breath of fresh air. Blaine smiled to himself. He had been so sure that nobody would ever be able to make him feel that way after what he'd been through. _This must be what healing feels like_ , he thought happily.

"I didn't think anyone would come out here," Kurt said quietly. Blaine could make out his melancholy expression in the dimming light of the evening.

"Oh! I can go back in if you'd rather be alone."

"No. Please stay." Kurt pushed off the railing to come a little closer to where he stood, and Blaine recognized heaviness and sadness in the way he moved.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

Kurt shook his head. "Just having a difficult day, you know?"

Blaine was all too familiar with difficult days. He offered something to Kurt that he always longed for, but never had.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"I don't want to burden you with my troubles," Kurt tried to argue.

Blaine pressed his lips together and started walking through the garden with no explanation to the back of the yard, where he found a bench. He sat and motioned for Kurt to join him.

"If there is anything I've learned from my time here at Hummel's House so far, it's that talking about things makes everything better. I had kept everything inside until I met you, you know? I didn't have anyone to listen, anyone who cared. After meeting you and my session with Dr. Pillsbury the other day, I feel a hundred times lighter."

"I've never really had anyone to talk to either, aside from my dad and Elliott. But neither of them really understands."

"Who is Elliott?" Blaine asked curiously.

"He used to be a resident here. He graduated a few years ago. He's the only real friend I've had since I stopped going to public school."

"Graduated? Everyone keeps referring to leaving as 'graduation.' We always used to call it 'aging out.'"

"We recognize the difference here, too, but unless there is some sort of serious problem, everyone graduates from Hummel's House. Why do you think it's so important for us to stay under the radar? If the government caught wind of the idea that Burt passes everyone, they'd shut us down instantly."

Blaine's jaw dropped. "Everyone graduates? You mean…"

"Yes. I mean you. Burt will pass you with flying colors."

Blaine was reeling. Graduating meant being able to live on his own. It meant going to college, getting a real job, having a real future.

"Wow. I...I never thought it was a possibility."

Kurt slowly moved his hand as he had the night before to rest over Blaine's, but this time, Blaine bravely flipped his palm and laced their fingers together.

"You have your whole life ahead of you. You'll do great things," Kurt assured him. "What will you do with your freedom?"

They both knew the freedom Kurt spoke of was not truly freedom. Blaine would still be required to show his NC mark in public (though a "cured" tattoo would accompany it), still face the stares and discrimination of those who thought he was an aberration. But it was a thousand times better than being subjected to life in an adult NC home.

"I've honestly never let myself think about it." He shrugged. It was too overwhelming to think about, so Blaine changed the subject. "So tell me more about Elliott. What did he do after he graduated?"

"He's one of the smartest and most confident people I know. We took to each other right away. Kind of like you and me," Kurt bumped their shoulders lightly. "He went to a community college and opened a small record store over in Columbus. We still talk sometimes, but he's met someone, so he stays pretty busy." Blaine could tell that Kurt really missed his friend. He squeezed his hand comfortingly.

"And what about you? What are your plans for when you leave here?"

Kurt sighed deeply. "I was planning on going to college in the fall, hopefully accepted into a fashion design program…" The sound of shattered dreams clouded his voice.

"Why do you say 'was?'"

Kurt used his free hand to rub at his temples. "I just don't know if I could do something so selfish. I want to design clothes, but I _should_ follow in my father's footsteps. I _should_ open an adolescent home and make life better for people like you."

"You _should_ do what makes you happy," Blaine countered.

Kurt squeezed his hand back, looking at him with unfathomable eyes.

"There's another reason to open a home…" he trailed off. Blaine looked at him curiously.

"What's that?"

"Hiding in plain sight. It's what has gotten me by so far."

"What do you mean?"

Kurt pulled up his sleeve to reveal his bare, unmarked forearm.

"My dad, this home...they're the only reasons I'm not in your position."

Blaine continued looking at him questioningly, but his face softened as Kurt melted down into tears. Strong, stable Kurt who had been nothing but stoic since they had met, was now taking in shuddering, uncontrollable gasps of air.

Blaine tried to remove his hand, but Kurt tightened his grasp.

"There's a reason I stay away from the other boys here. There's a reason I haven't gone to school in years, that I don't have any friends. People know. You know, Elliot knew, my dad knows. He has for a long time. But I've never said it before. Not even to Dr. Pillsbury, and we talk about it every week."

Blaine allowed Kurt to use his hand as an anchor as he confessed his deepest secret.

"Blaine, I'm gay."

"Me too," Blaine breathed, and the relief was instant. "I'm gay too. I've never said it either, I've always been so afraid of it. I can only imagine how scary it is for you."

"Terrifying. Every day that passes is another sigh of relief. I wish I didn't have to live in fear."

Blaine knew that even though the regulations on those caught and marked Non-Conforming in adulthood were less strict than for adolescents, they could still ruin Kurt's life and his vision for his future. "I wish that for you, too."

Kurt dabbed at his tears and took a deep breath. "How do you still have such a good heart after all that has happened to you?" he asked, eyes gleaming as he watched Blaine.

"You make it easy," Blaine confided. "I know I've only been here a few days, but I already know that you and Burt are the two best things that will ever happen to me in my life. I can't believe your dad opened a home just to keep you safe. He's amazing."

"He really is. Sometimes I feel so guilty that I've had it so easy when there are people like you who have suffered."

"Is that what has been bothering you today?"

"That, and everything else all rolled into one, yes."

"Don't worry about the rest of us. We want you to escape. Plus, you're doing plenty to help. You're a fair and good head boy. You make beautiful clothes for us. You _are_ making a difference, Kurt. And whether you decide open a home or not, I know you'll find a way to keep making things better for the rest of us."

Blaine suddenly realized how close he and Kurt were, hands still clasped together and bodies pressed close on the small bench. His heart sped faster than ever feeling the charged atmosphere between them. Kurt hesitated, holding back and waiting for Blaine to make the first move. He knew what Blaine had been through in the past, and wanted to make sure he had all the control, which made Blaine want it that much more.

Blaine leaned forward slowly and deliberately, locking eyes with Kurt, and soft as the flutter of a butterfly, fleetingly touched his lips to Kurt's. He felt and heard Kurt's hitch of breath as he moved to nuzzle his nose into Kurt's neck and just breathed him in. Kurt's protective hands embraced him, holding him tightly as they fell over the edge together, into a place where nothing was guaranteed and nothing was known.

* * *

Burt Hummel was not an emotional man, but he could not stop himself from choking up watching his son fall for the broken, perfect soul in Blaine Anderson. All he had ever wanted was for Kurt to be happy, and he had done everything in his power to make it happen. The one thing Kurt had never had was a romance, and Burt was thrilled that he had found what he was looking for. But it was dangerous for Kurt. Burt knew his son and knew he would do anything to protect Blaine, despite the short time they had known each other. There was something that bonded them, that made them a perfect match, and that was as dangerous as it was beautiful.


	7. Sebastian

 

Two months was a short period of time in the life of a seventeen-year-old boy, but the eight weeks Blaine had been at Hummel's Home were already more significant than the entire time he had spent in his previous home.

In the months since he had arrived in the middle of the night, filthy and hopeless, Blaine had made more progress than he had thought himself capable of. He rediscovered pieces of himself that he thought he had lost; enjoying the company of other people, smiling and laughing regularly, taking pride in his appearance, and letting down his walls. Though there was still a long road ahead of him, he felt like a new man.

His sessions with Emma (it had only taken a week for him to start calling her by her first name, contrary to his initial thoughts) were predictably helpful, and the healthy and clean lifestyle was a major factor in Blaine's recovery, obviously. But it was the upbeat and hopeful atmosphere, his budding friendships, and the trust that he could finally give to others that made all the difference in the world.

Blaine's weeks were routine but not boring. He studied on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, worked on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and learned how to enjoy himself and his new friends all the times between. Some of his old favorite hobbies resurfaced, even. He ran and kicked a soccer ball around with Nick, played Mario Kart with Jeff, rekindled his love for playing piano with Sebastian, and looked through an endless collection of comic books with Chandler.

Work, for once in his life, was something he looked forward to rather than dreading. He'd been back to see the Christensens a few times, but enjoyed other jobs too, like working for a local florist arranging bouquets, and changing tires in the shop Burt used to own.

His trust in Burt grew more solid with each passing day and was virtually unbreakable after the first few weeks. Burt did nothing but prove himself over and over, and the going away party they had thrown for Jeff, who was the first of the older boys to turn 18, only furthered that growing respect. Jeff was graduating out into the real world. Burt ceremoniously handed over his box of earnings from the past three years, with which Jeff planned to pay rent on an apartment in Indiana that Nick would move into with him when he was of age. They both decided to apply to universities around Indianapolis, but Jeff would have to wait almost four months for Nick to join him. They ate a delicious cake baked by Kurt and played cards and talked around the table until nearly 1:00 in the morning, at which point, they said their goodbyes and let a tearful Nick and Jeff retire. They all shoved pillows over their heads that night to drown out the noise.

There were still plenty of things Blaine struggled with, of course. After he grew used to being allowed to have his mark covered around the home, he left his sleeves down at all times. He hated seeing the offending NC there. He still flinched when people came too close (with the exception of the Hummels), and still experienced downswings in his mood. Headaches still plagued him, especially when things were going particularly well because Blaine had trouble convincing himself that that was how things were for him now. The medication Emma had prescribed was doing its job, though, and he had significantly more good days than bad.

Of course, it was easy for him to forget about the bad things when there was someone around making him feel so good about himself. Being with Kurt was almost like being in another world entirely. They could be so honest with each other, talking about their hopes and fears for the future and telling stories of their pasts they'd never before dared to reveal. The closeness that Blaine craved but could not stand from most was more than bearable in Kurt. He found himself constantly scooting closer to Kurt, brushing his fingertips against Kurt's back or cheek or arm or any part of him he could reach. Blaine spent as much time as possible with Kurt, but their opportunities were limited. Blaine did not want anyone to notice that he was sneaking off, so he had to balance his evenings. Still, more than once, they'd been able to steal away and share some more private moments. Kissing Kurt was like nothing Blaine had ever experienced. It transported him to another place where anything could happen. It made him tingle with desire and hope and the satisfaction of finally being who he was. Kurt was very gentle and patient with him, always letting Blaine initiate and always watching out for even the tiniest of signs that he wasn't okay. Sure, Blaine was still terrified to own his sexuality and to express it with someone, especially someone as amazing as Kurt. But he was working through it slowly.

One particularly nice fall evening, Blaine and Nick had been out playing soccer in the backyard while Sebastian sat nearby reading.

"I'm exhausted from work today, Blaine. I'm going to head in to go to bed." Nick tossed him the ball high, trying to catch him off guard.

Blaine jumped and just barely caught it, laughing as he landed and swatted Nick on the arm, wishing him a good night. Enjoying himself came so easily to Blaine these days, and he cherished every last laugh.

Tired from running around with Nick, he sat down in the grass and fell backward to lie flat with the setting sun shining on his face. He closed his eyes and basked in the feeling, clearing his mind of everything else.

"Hey, Blaine," came Sebastian's voice nearby. He cracked an eyelid open to find Sebastian standing over him and looking down. "Mind if I join you?"

Blaine raised an eyebrow at the boy who was known around the house for brushing off the tiniest specks of dust and keeping his room impeccably clean. " _You_ want to sit in the grass?"

Sebastian chuckled. "Okay, maybe you could come up here with me, then."

Blaine hauled himself to his feet and sat in a patio chair next to Sebastian in the garden. Crickets were starting to sing their nightly song, adding to the peacefulness of the yard.

"It's beautiful out here, isn't it?" Sebastian asked, crossing his legs. Blaine blanched at the word 'beautiful' as he usually did. It had too many negative memories attached and he feared he would never be able to hear it without cringing. His fingers traced his scar of their own accord.

"One of my favorite places in the house," Blaine agreed. Of course, his bias toward the garden probably had something to do with the time he had spent there with Kurt, but he would never reveal that to Sebastian.

He was hot and sticky from kicking the ball around, so he automatically went to push up his sleeves, but stopped himself, remembering his mark. It was moments like those that bothered him the most. Ones when he went to do something so routine and ingrained in him, when everything felt so normal again, but remembered that there was physical proof permanently attached to him labeling him a societal abnormality.

"You look overheated," Sebastian commented.

"I'm fine."

Sebastian cocked his head as he regarded Blaine. "You don't like to show your mark, do you?"

Blaine pressed his lips into a straight line and shook his head, badly needing a change in topic.

"It's okay. We all have them. No need to be ashamed." Sebastian's words meant to soothe him, make him feel like he was not alone, but they held a judgmental undertone that minimized Blaine's feelings.

"Yeah, well, it means something completely different to me," Blaine said shortly, looking off into the distance and wanting to be anywhere but there.

Sebastian softened upon hearing the edge to Blaine's voice.

"When were you marked?" he asked, leaning in closer to Blaine.

"Eleven."

Sebastian, sensing that he would hear no more on the matter, launched into his own story.

"I was fourteen. It was a stupid moment of defiance that changed my life. I should have kept my mouth shut, but, well...you know me."

Blaine looked up and gave a small laugh.

"I was in trouble for something trivial. I think I'd been caught trying to steal a bottle of liquor from my parents' stash. Funny how I don't even remember now. I was such a little hormonal teenager throwing a belligerent fit and I just...cracked. It was inside of me for so long, but I went on pretending to be the perfect son that my parents wanted — no, _needed_ — me to be, and it just all came out. My dad was yelling at me about underage drinking and I sarcastically shouted back, 'petty crime compared to being gay!' And oh, the look on his face. I always thought my parents loved me, but in that moment, I knew that it wasn't unconditional. They called the hotline right away and I was shipped off to be marked within the hour.

"Looking back, of course I regret it. But at the time, I just wanted to be honest with the world about who I was. I still want that. Of course, now I don't need to tell anyone for them to know," he laughed dryly. "Be careful what you wish for, I guess."

Blaine felt Sebastian's pain. He knew what it was like to hold in such a big secret, though he'd had to do it for a much shorter time. What resonated with him quite strongly, though, was realizing that his parents' love for him was just not enough to savage him. He thought back to the day he went through the same exact thing.

* * *

" _Come on, Blaine, nobody will catch us. It'll be fun, I promise!"_

_An eleven-year-old Blaine looked up at the slightly older boy he idolized. Aiden was perfect, and Blaine had the biggest crush on him— his first non-celebrity crush ever. He was popular and good at sports and really, really cute. Blaine figured Aiden probably didn't know who he was because he was older and much more sophisticated, but Aiden had caught him staring one day at school and approached him. A few days later and they were hanging out at Aiden's house, watching a movie while lounging on the sofa._

_Partway through the movie, Aiden asked Blaine if he wanted to kiss him. Blushing and stammering, Blaine denied it, knowing how much trouble he could be in if anyone found out he really did want to._

" _Oh, you can tell me, Blaine. I won't tell anyone. Do you want to kiss me?"_

_Blaine, at his young, gullible age, was too quick to believe him._

" _Yes," he whispered, the world's biggest secret. "But I can't. Your parents might come home."_

" _Please Blaine? I like you."_

_Blaine was so head over heels and dying to have his first kiss that he did not take any more convincing. He leaned in for the kiss, and his lips had barely touched Aiden's when his parents came through the door._

" _Young man! Get away from my son at once!" they demanded._

_Blaine sprung apart from Aiden like he had been shocked, but Aiden sat strangely still._

" _Sorry, Blaine," he said with a shrug. "I really did like you."_

_Blaine barely knew what was happening as Aiden's mother jumped into action. "You stay right there," she commanded him as she picked up the phone._

_He sat nervously on the couch, wondering what was going to happen. Was she calling his parents? What would they do if they found out he was kissing a boy? But he caught snippets of her conversation, and realized the call she had made was much worse than one to his parents._

"— _homosexual behavior in my home."_

" _My son's friend—"_

" _Thank you, we will hold him until then."_

_In school, they learned a brief overview of what happened to gay people when they were caught. Blaine knew they were taken and marked and put in homes to be cured, but he had no idea what truly awaited him._

_It was only after calling the NCEA that Aiden's parents called his. He waited as instructed on the couch for Aiden's parents to tell him what was going on, and when to expect his mom to come, but he was left alone and afraid to wonder what was going to happen. He did not even have time to see or speak to his parents before the government came for him. The NCEA agent was not gentle with him as he loaded Blaine into the nondescript white van._

" _What's going to happen to Aiden?" he asked, hoping his friend would not get in trouble as well._

" _Nothing," the agent replied with a sneer. "He and his family are hunters. Shouldn't have gotten tangled up in that mess, gay boy." The door to the van was slammed and he was left alone once again._

_Hunters. He had heard of them before, the people who were paid a hefty reward by the government for each NC they turned in, but had never met one that he knew of. His stomach turned as he realized what had happened. He hated himself for falling for Aiden, for trusting him, for kissing him. He hated Aiden and his family for turning him in. And he hated his parents for not doing anything to stop them_.

* * *

"I know what you mean," Blaine said quietly to Sebastian. He swallowed the lump in his throat, determined not to cry in front of his housemate. "I always ask myself why my parents didn't love me enough to protect me. What could I have done to make them care for me just that much more?" It felt great to finally speak the words out loud to someone who knew exactly how he was feeling.

"I'll tell you what Emma always tells me. You're not the problem," Sebastian recited. "The problem is them." He reached over and grabbed Blaine's hands from his knees to try to comfort him, but Blaine pulled back as if he'd been burned. He wrapped his arms around his middle and leaned away from Sebastian.

"Blaine, chill out, it's just me." Sebastian, extended his well-intentioned fingers to try to brush them through Blaine's short curls, which had started to grow back, but Blaine pulled away again, getting to his feet.

"Please don't. I'm sorry, I have some issues with being touched."

Sebastian leaned back in his chair with a frown and mumbled, "you don't seem to have that issue around Kurt."

Panic crept up on Blaine as the implication of Sebastian's words sunk in. If someone knew about him and Kurt and they decided to tell, Kurt's life could be over. He kept his arms crossed and tried to keep his cool.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Whatever." Sebastian's whole demeanor had changed to something significantly icier. "I see you sneaking around and disappearing. Don't think I don't know where you go. You know, I wasn't even sure he was gay until I saw the two of you together out here the other night. Just because he's unmarked doesn't mean he's better than me."

"I told you. I don't know what you're referring to," Blaine said with a calm finality, though a huge knot had formed in his stomach. "I'm going to go take my shower. See you tomorrow."

As he walked back toward the house, Blaine felt Sebastian's eyes follow him along with a sense of dread.

* * *

"Hey dad, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Burt looked up from the papers in front of him to his son who was standing anxiously in his doorway.

"Of course."

Kurt came in, shutting the door carefully behind him, then sat down directly across from Burt.

"Relax, kiddo, you look so tense. What is it?"

Kurt knew putting it off any longer was pointless, so he breathed deeply and jumped right in.

"I'm sneaking around with Blaine. I know it's stupid and risky and everything else you're going to say, but we're being careful. I've just never met someone who made me feel as _myself_ as Blaine does. I'm sure you don't find him the ideal guy for your son to be dating, but I promise even though he's working through his problems, he's amazing, and really good for me. I—"

"Are you done?" Burt asked, a smile playing at his lips.

"Not—uh...why are you laughing?"

"Kurt, I've known since that first night the two of you snuck away together."

"You have?"

Burt nodded.

"And?"

"And you're right. It's risky and stupid and everything else."

"Please say there's a 'but' coming."

"... _But_ I see the two of you together when you think nobody is looking. I know how good you are for each other, because of the progress he's made since he's been here. And since the day he arrived, I've seen a change in you, too. You've always been so careful and reserved, and Blaine gives you a reason to smile, to put yourself out there a little bit, at least for him. I'm not saying it's smart to play around like this, but what can I do? Tell you you shouldn't ever date anyone? Because the risk of being caught is always going to be there. You shouldn't have to put your life on hold just for that."

Kurt's shoulders sagged with relief. "I know. You're right. Blaine taught me that some things are worth the risk. I'm still scared, though."

"I'm scared too, Kurt. I've worked so hard to keep you safe, I couldn't bear to see your future ripped away from you like that. But as I've always said, this is a safe place. Everyone here has everyone else's back. I'm not saying you should flaunt your relationship, but this is where you can be you. So just do it."

Kurt sighed and stood up to hug Burt. "I love you, dad."

"Love you too, kiddo."

* * *

"I had an interesting conversation with my dad," Kurt said as he and Blaine reclined against the headboard of his queen size bed, reading side by side in the lamplight.

Blaine put a bookmark in his book and looked up a Kurt quizzically.

"He apparently knew about you and I already."

"Of course he did. He knows everything that goes on here."

Kurt laughed. "True."

"How does he feel about it?" Blaine asked, suddenly nervous. Burt's approval meant everything to him.

"Surprisingly supportive. I thought for sure he would try to warn me off, but nope." Kurt pushed their books out of the way and rolled onto his side, wrapping an arm around Blaine's waist in his usual slow way that always allowed Blaine time to resist. He never did. "He said he can see that you make me happy."

Blaine wiggled in closer to Kurt's embrace. "I do?"

"Extremely so." Kurt gave the lightest touch to Blaine's temple before running his fingertips through the soft, thick hair that was growing back on Blaine's head, causing him to shiver all the way down to his toes.

As always, Kurt allowed Blaine to initiate their kiss, melting into it.

In the few weeks they had been experimenting with touch (Blaine had confided in him how cautious he was of being touched again, but how badly he wanted it from Kurt), Blaine had become more confident and more comfortable. Granted, they had done little more than cuddle and share a few sweet kisses, but with Blaine, it felt like everything. Kurt had done his research, consulting with Emma about how best to approach physical affection after what Blaine had been through, and it was paying off.

Kurt felt Blaine's hands wind their way around him and up his back as he deepened the kiss slightly and he sighed happily. He could see such a marked difference in Blaine already, the way his bones weren't as sharp under his skin and his hair felt soft and silky as Kurt tugged lightly at it, and it made him want to cry in relief and happiness. He carefully snaked his leg over one of Blaine's and pressed their bodies a little closer.

Blaine's hands tightened on his back as he spoke a soft "Kurt" into his mouth.

Kurt broke the kiss, breathless and flushed, and leaned his forehead on Blaine's shoulder.

"Can we take off our shirts? Just the top layer — leave on undershirts. You just make me so hot."

Blaine's second of hesitation was just long enough for Kurt to catch it. He tried rearranging his face so that the hint of rejection did not show. He knew it was nothing personal, but took it hard when it felt like Blaine didn't trust him as much as Kurt thought he did. Blaine's hand settled on Kurt's forearm.

"It's not that I don't want to," he said quietly. "I do. But…"

Kurt realized that he was holding his marked forearm to his chest protectively and it clicked.

"You don't like showing your mark."

"I know it's silly," Blaine chewed on his lip, thinking about what Sebastian had said earlier.

"It's not."

Blaine looked up timidly at the surety in Kurt's voice.

"I can only guess what seeing it does to you. It has brought you so much pain and put you through so much trauma...I can see why you hate it. But I have to tell you something."

Blaine lowered his arm slowly as he listened intently to Kurt. Kurt did not lift the sleeve, but rested his palm across where Blaine's mark was.

"I admire it so much. That mark means that the world is against you, yet you can still bring a smile to my face every day. It means you're stronger for all of the trials you've suffered. It means you're incredibly brave to face each day like you do. You may not like what those two letters stand for, but they show me what has made you who you are today. And that person is one I have an unbelievable amount of affection and respect for."

Eyes remaining locked on Kurt's, Blaine stripped off his shirt and reached for Kurt's to do the same. He went in for another kiss and to push their chests together, but first, Kurt caught his arm and planted a kiss over his mark, and Blaine's heart sang.

They lost themselves in the endless sea of each other until shouting from the basement broke them apart.

"What's going on?" Blaine asked, but Kurt was already on his feet and putting his shirt back on.

Downstairs, Sebastian and Burt were locked in a confrontation. Kurt sped to his dad's side while Blaine stayed back near the staircase.

"Sebastian, I warned you the last time that you couldn't keep getting away with it. You _cannot_ treat the other boys that way. Chandler showed no interest in you, according to everyone else. You can't just keep coming on to him, especially in such a crude way. You're making some of the other residents uncomfortable. I don't know if I have any choice but to send you to another home."

Sebastian's face paled. "No! You can't!"

Burt sighed. "I can't have my boys feeling afraid of anyone in this house. You have to leave them alone."

Sebastian puffed his chest defiantly. "Tell that to your own son. He's taking advantage of Blaine."

A collective gasp ran through everyone gathered around the scene, and Blaine flushed under the weight of their stares, but neither Blaine nor Kurt rose to Sebastian's bait. They stayed quiet from where they looked on. Kurt could see his father's blood pressure rising, but Burt stayed calm as well.

"Nobody in this house is made uncomfortable by Kurt."

"Maybe I am," Sebastian spat. "It would be a shame if it somehow slipped to an official that there was an unmarked head boy hiding out in this house."

Kurt's thighs hurt from where his fingernails dug into the skin there. If they believed Sebastian, now everyone in the house knew his secret.

Burt was defeated and he knew it, so he did the only thing he could do. He stepped closer to Sebastian, towering over him and put a hand up between them.

"This is your last chance. You can stay here at Hummel's Home, as long as you don't say one more word about Kurt. To anyone. Is that clear?" he asked in a low, menacing voice.

Sebastian smirked, satisfied with himself.

"Crystal."


	8. Thanksgiving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for minor violence and attempted non-con, but it's brief and nothing graphic.

"Let's shave his head in his sleep."

"I'll punch him in the face."

"Or we could steal all of his stuff when he's working."

"We could put a badger in his bed?"

"Where are you going to find a badger?"

"I have connections."

"Sure you do."

The older boys in the house were sitting around the dining table with their heads close together, talking in hushed voices.

"Hey guys, what are you doing?" Blaine asked, walking past on his way to the kitchen for a drink.

"Plotting how to pay Sebastian back for what he did to you and Kurt," Nick announced. "So far we're going to cut off all his hair, break his nose, take his shit, and tuck him in with a badger."

Blaine burst out laughing. "Sounds well thought out. But really, you guys don't need to do anything. Your support is enough. It means a lot to us, and plus, Sebastian's plan backfired when everyone stood behind us, so he's upset enough as it is."

Chandler shook his head incredulously. "You're much nicer than me."

"The badger was your idea, wasn't it?" Blaine asked.

"It was a great idea. Badgers are feisty little fuckers."

Nick patted him on the head appeasingly. "Just like you, Chan, just like you."

* * *

Kurt's flushed skin was smooth and perfect beneath Blaine's fingertips, which traced a path across his sensitive ribs and down to his hip bones. A shuddering exhale left Kurt's lips, ending in a low groan as Blaine's mouth replaced his fingers.

Everywhere Blaine's lips touched, Kurt's skin ignited, sending smoldering sparks up to his heart where they remained. The feelings he had developed for Blaine were paralyzing at the best of times.

Blaine felt Kurt tugging on his hair and looked up into darkened eyes to see Kurt indicate that he should move back up so they were face to face. He complied, covering Kurt's body with his as he did, and kissed Kurt with total abandon.

After years of mistreatment and being sexually used and abused, Blaine was shocked he could find pleasure in being intimate with someone. But then, he reminded himself, Kurt was not just someone. Kurt was a friend, boyfriend, and mentor, designed just for him by whatever divine force may have existed. It was not fair, really, for him to have crafted such a pedestal for Kurt, but at the same time, Blaine could recognize that he was far from perfect. Kurt, too, was scarred by his past, held back by fear, and subdued by years of hiding. That was what made them a perfect match. It could easily have been toxic, to pair up with someone equally oppressed and traumatized, but just like everything else with Kurt, it worked.

Blaine loved every moment they spent together, especially their private moments in Kurt's room. He explored Kurt's body, exploring his own sexuality at the same time. Kurt repaid the favor as nobody had taken the time to do before, and it left Blaine gloriously helpless. The burn Kurt's lips left behind as they mapped a path over his neck, shoulders, and stomach felt like he was being rebranded with a KH instead of an NC. Kurt's delicate touches gave Blaine a reason to want to be in his body again, to want to _enjoy_ his body again.

There was so much Blaine was not ready for, even with Kurt, and maybe never would be, but the unspoken promise that Kurt would always be willing to try anything at Blaine's pace without any expectations and with love and care meant everything.

"Blaine," Kurt whispered as Blaine kissed over and over underneath his jaw. Their hips were slotted together perfectly, erections obvious. Kurt pulled his hips back and tried again. "Blaine."

Blaine lifted his head to make eye contact with Kurt again, his lips cherry red and chest rising and falling quickly in time to his breaths.

"Too much, too much," Kurt said, clenching his teeth to fight the intense arousal taking him over. He knew how much Blaine loved giving his body the attention it desired and Blaine thought it deserved, but Blaine was bringing him too close, and if he didn't stop now, they might cross a line they could never uncross.

Blaine rolled away a few inches, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry."

"Please don't apologize for being unable to keep your hands off of me. I really don't mind. I just want to make sure...you know." He held out his arm, offering up snuggles.

Blaine scooted back in after a round of deep cleansing breaths and cuddled up against Kurt's side.

"You're really great."

Kurt beamed, then tapped Blaine on the nose. "You're greater. I have to say, I was pretty upset at first after Sebastian outed me to the house, but I'm starting to see the perks. For instance, we don't have to sneak around anymore."

"That _is_ nice."

"How did he know, anyway?"

"I'm not sure he knew for sure, but he had suspicions about us, and when he voiced them, our reactions gave us away."

"I still don't get why he would act the way he did, though."

"I might." Blaine but his lip. "From what he tells me, he has a bit of an impulsive, rebellious streak. He was feeling jealous, and I think it just kind of came out."

"Jealous? What of?"

"Of you. He wants me."

"Blaine, you know I hate it when you use that self-deprecating tone."

"I'm sorry. I just equate being wanted to a sense of worthlessness."

"Do I make you feel that way?" Kurt pulled his hands away from Blaine, ready to retreat entirely if he felt it necessary. .

"Not in the slightest. It's different coming from you. You want me for more than my looks."

Kurt looked him over and then pulled him back in close.

"You _are_ a little too cute for your own good, but you're right," Kurt teased. "I'm here for the guy on the inside. I've never met anyone quite so special."

Blaine's heartbeat fluttered when Kurt's hand came to rest over his chest. Times like those were what made Blaine think Kurt was so marvelous. He always seemed to know exactly what Blaine needed to hear. What he'd been desperate to hear for years.

"This thanksgiving, I have so much to be thankful for," Kurt said sweetly, kissing Blaine's temple.

"Thanksgiving? That's so far away!"

"Blaine. Thanksgiving is next Thursday."

"Oh."

He was used to holidays sneaking up on him. Many times in his old home, holidays passed without Blaine even realizing what day it was. Even if he knew it was approaching, he had not celebrated a holiday or his birthday since he'd been marked.

He assumed Kurt and Burt would be traveling to visit family, but at least this year he would have the guys around. It was the first time he'd really had friends, and he was definitely thankful for that.

* * *

Thanksgiving dawned a rainy and cold Thursday. Blaine only remembered it was Thanksgiving at all because Chandler had decorated their room with an excess of paper turkeys, silk leaves, and an actual cornucopia.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Blaine!" Chandler chirped delightedly from the other side of the room.

"It is way too early for you to be so chipper."

"It's Thanksgiving!" Chandler protested. "There's no work or school again until Monday. What could be better than a holiday?"

That caused Blaine to fully wake up. "Really? We don't have to work the rest of the week?"

"Nope." He danced away, humming.

Blaine stretched and leisurely pulled himself out of bed and through his morning routine, knowing he had nowhere special to be. Time off of work was unheard of for him, and in the past, he wouldn't have known what to do with his free time. But he was pleased to realize there was a handful of things he looked forward to doing.

The dining table was quickly filling up with residents who ambled in, wiping sleep from their eyes. Piles of pancakes and boats of syrup dwindled while hungry boys stuffed their faces. A large potted tree that Blaine had never seen before sat in the corner, and it was clear that Chandler's decorating spree had extended to the rest of the house.

"Morning Blaine. Happy Thanksgiving!" shouted Burt over the din of excited teenagers. "Help yourself to food, and make sure to take a leaf."

"What?" he whispered to Nick, who he sat beside, stomach growling as he eyed the still steaming pancakes.

Nick handed him a marker and few paper leaves with twine strung through them. "Write something you're thankful for on each one and hang it on the tree. It's one of our Thanksgiving traditions. Adorable, isn't it?"

Blaine giggled. "What are some of the other traditions?"

"We have a huge dinner together and end the night ringing in the holiday season with Christmas songs and a few Hanukkah songs for Chandler."

"We have dinner together? Who cooks?"

"Your boy. He's probably in the kitchen slaving away already."

Blaine shoveled food into his mouth so he could go say good morning to Kurt and offer to help. He felt bad leaving Nick so quickly, but Chandler found a seat by them and started chatting excitedly. Blaine rocked on the edge of his chair, anxious to go see Kurt.

"Yeah, yeah, leave me alone with badger boy and go get your kisses on," Nick pushed him away playfully.

As he stood, thanking Nick, Sebastian came into the room, ignored by half of the house, and receiving dirty looks from the other half. He sat at the end of the table by himself.

Sebastian had been silent since his outburst and deal with Burt. Almost suspiciously quiet. But there was nothing they could do except wait him out. The waiting put Blaine, Burt, and Kurt on edge, but they felt a little more at ease with every passing day where he said nothing.

Blaine tried to forget about Sebastian as he made his way to the kitchen and found Kurt working over a crockpot with an apron tied around his waist. He walked up and pecked Kurt on the cheek.

"Good morning."

"Good morning!" Kurt turned into the kiss and stole one on the lips. "Happy Thanksgiving."

"You too. What can I help with?"

"Nothing at the moment, but I'd love your company."

Blaine pulled up a stool and perched there, watching Kurt so adeptly prepare the biggest meal of the year. He put the paper leaves on the counter in front of him and uncapped the marker, trying to narrow down his gratitude to a few specific things.

"My mom started that tradition," Kurt said softly.

"The tree?"

"Even before I could write, she'd have me draw a picture of what I was thankful for. I think my dad has kept all of my leaves from every year in a box."

"That's really sweet. I think it's a great tradition."

Kurt gave him that unfathomable smile that set his heart pounding before turning back to his cooking.

"So you and Burt stay around on Thanksgiving?" He tried not to sound too hopeful. "I thought you'd go visit family."

Kurt looked at him with rosy cheeks and a happy smile. "Of course we stay here. You guys _are_ our family."

It was the best Thanksgiving Blaine had ever had.

* * *

Going out on new jobs still made Blaine anxious, but Nick assured him that Jeff had worked at Maui's many times before and loved it.

Blaine could not understand what had gone so badly.

"You're doing it all fucking wrong!" screamed the manager, knocking a pile of shirts intended for a display out of Blaine's hands. "All you NCs are just the same. Useless."

"I'm sorry, Chris, please tell me how to do better and I will," Blaine dropped his gaze immediately and fell into a submissive, obedient stance. All of the confidence he had gained in the past months vanished. He was once again the downtrodden NC from his past.

"You dare call me by my name like we're equals?"

_Smack!_

Blaine reeled back from the hand that had slapped his face, falling to his knees. He was glad there were no patrons in the store to witness his humiliation.

"S—sir. What can I do to make it better?"

The man, only a few years his elder, grabbed him by the ear and yanked him to his feet. He leaned in close and growled in his ear, "I bet you love taking it up the ass, don't you?"

Blaine whimpered. The manager spun him around and pushed his hardness against Blaine's backside.

The door alert rang out and he let go of Blaine, pushing him away quickly. "Get in my office. Now."

Blaine practically ran to the back room while the manager helped the new customer.

He fell to the ground in tears, barely able to think rationally. He had somehow deluded himself into believing that he would never be touched against his will again. Realizing that things would never change was a difficult pill to swallow.

He noticed a phone on the desk, but was too distraught to consider using it. He only knew Burt's number by heart, and in that moment, he was terrified of the man who would send him to such a horrible job.

The feeling of his wallet in his back pocket was what brought Blaine back to reality. There wasn't much to keep in a wallet, but Burt insisted that they carry their government identification with them at all times. The only other thing he had added—

Blaine scrambled to pull the wallet out and fished around in the pocket for the slip of paper with his salvation written on it.

He dialed the number he'd received at the farewell party a few months ago and held his breath.

"Jeff? It's Blaine. I need your help."

* * *

"I made it just in time," Jeff whispered to Burt from where they stood outside the therapy room waiting for Emma and Blaine to finish. "The customer was just leaving when I got there. Who can say what would have happened if I hadn't been able to be there right away."

Burt took off his hat and ran his hand over his head in frustration. "I just don't understand. Greg told me his new manager was trustworthy. And for it to happen to Blaine, of all people…how was he?"

"He didn't speak to me and he wouldn't acknowledge anyone when we got here. Emma was the only person he would go with at all. It was awful. He was curled up in a tense little ball and couldn't stop shaking. He flinched every time I talked or got too close. Burt, I'm afraid this set him back to where he was when he first got here."

"It can't be. I'll never forgive myself for letting him go there. This was all my fault."

Jeff started to argue, but the door creaked open to reveal Emma.

"How is he?"

"He won't say much about what happened. It's a step backward, but I'm positive he will keep moving forward in his recovery. He shouldn't be alone tonight, but doesn't want anyone close. Is there anyone he trusts enough?"

Burt and Jeff made eye contact and nodded.

"I'll go get him." Burt disappeared, leaving Jeff and Emma in the hallway.

"How are you doing, Jeff?"

His smile lit up his whole face. "I miss Nick and of course Burt and the guys, but freedom is amazing. Emma, I will never be able to thank you enough for your help in the transition process and everything you've done for me since I was marked. You're the unsung hero of the house," he joked, but pulled her into a hug.

Frantic footsteps came pounding down the hallway, breaking up their moment.

"Take me to him," Kurt demanded.

Burt appeared behind him, apologizing for Kurt's attitude with a look.

"Why didn't anyone tell me what was happening? Where is he?"

"Come on," Emma said gently, leading Kurt into her office.

Kurt's eyes landed on Blaine immediately and he rushed forward, reaching out for the far away Blaine.

Kurt never had to be careful with his casual or affectionate touches anymore, so he didn't hesitate to put a hand on his back and rub soothing circles. Blaine tensed into a tighter ball, shivering, but otherwise not responding.

"Blaine, are you okay? What happened?" Kurt went to wrap his arms around him, but his hands were swatted out of the way.

He looked at Blaine in surprise, and the tiny ball of a boy finally lifted his eyes to acknowledge Kurt's presence.

"It's okay, sweetheart, I'm here now," Kurt reached out again.

Blaine flinched away again. "GET AWAY FROM ME!"

Frozen in shock, Kurt didn't notice the stream of tears cascading down his cheeks or his dad's hands pulling him out of the room by his arms. He didn't notice that he was babbling a string of apologies and questions, or that the disturbing sounds in the background of his thoughts were Blaine's sobs and screams. And he didn't notice when Nick came down the hall and disappeared into the room, putting an end to the shouts and cries.

All he noticed was that the ticking time bomb that was his and Blaine's easy relationship had finally detonated.


	9. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on the update. I had to make sure everything was in order for my Fic Exchange story, which posts tomorrow! So go check it out. :)

 

_**Day 1** _

Blaine was still in shock. He was horrified over what had happened to him. He also felt unbearably worthless. So he stayed in bed, unable to move under the weight of the disgust he felt for himself.

_**Day 2** _

By the next day, those horrible feelings had gone, but what replaced them was no better. Now he was numb and indifferent. He overheard Emma telling Burt that he was unresponsive.

He tried to move, to answer, he really did. But his body just would not cooperate.

_**Day 3** _

Still trapped inside his head, his brain started to work again. He asked himself over and over.

_Why me?_

_Why now?_

_Why?_

_**Day 4** _

Blaine felt like he was waking up. It hurt because the numbness had faded and he starting to feel again; he felt a renewed self-disgust and a hopeless resignation to his lifetime designation as NC. It was intensified by feeling out of control of his own life again, just when he had thought he could take the reins back. He still felt more like himself, though, showering for the first time in days and eating half of a meal. But mostly he sat in his room, staring at the ceiling and continuing to wonder why.

The people around him who cared for him were exceptionally concerned, and they all responded in different ways.

Emma was the only person he had spoken to, and only in one-word answers to her questions. She tried multiple times per day to help him open up, and was making slow progress.

Nick was the only person he could be around, so he had moved into his room. Nick was a saint, giving Blaine as much space as he needed and acting completely non-threateningly.

After he stopped blaming himself, Burt was worried, of course. He wanted nothing more than to apologize over and over and ask what he could do to help, but for the time being he kept his distance and canceled all of Blaine's work and tutoring indefinitely.

The other residents were disquieted as well. They all knew it could easily have been them instead of Blaine. Reality was a slap in the face, especially to those who had been sheltered by Burt's care. They went about their days normally, but with those thoughts always in the back of their minds.

Kurt, on the other hand, was a wreck.

His rational mind understood that Blaine's reaction to him was nothing personal. Rationally, he _knew_ Blaine was reliving past traumas and that his safe space had been compromised. Still he couldn't help but to be hurt that Blaine couldn't be around him. He struggled with the hurt on top of outrage that something bad had happened to the sweet boy he adored, and deep, deep concern for his well-being. The intensity of his pain was almost debilitating every time he thought of Blaine's suffering, and that he could do nothing to ease it.

As badly as he wanted to forget his self-control and go visit Blaine in his room, Kurt stayed away, knowing that privacy was best for his recovery at the moment. He still showed his nurturing side, though, in the way he'd made special meals of Blaine's favorite foods or desserts especially for him. He bought a few light hearted books he thought Blaine might like, and made upbeat playlists that he copied onto CDs that he left with Nick to be passed on. Aside from those small gestures, though, he had no idea what to do.

Luckily for Kurt, he had an expert of sorts to turn to. Former resident at Hummel's and Kurt's closest friend, Elliott Gilbert, was now in college and an intern in a rehabilitation program for recovered and formerly abused NCs.

"Elliott, I don't know what to do," Kurt lamented over the phone. "Am I doing the right thing by staying away? Is my existence in the house too traumatizing? Should I move out?"

"Whoa. Calm down there. Let's not do something that crazy."

"I'm serious. I have no idea what I'm doing. Please help me. Emma has been working with him, but he still hasn't come out of his room in days and won't speak to anyone else."

"He's been through a trauma, Kurt."

"I know that. I just...I just feel alone and so lost."

"You know what? I think it's about time I pay you a visit."

_**Day 5** _

"Elliott's here!" Burt's announcement boomed through the basement of Hummel's Home.

A handful of boys who had been around for a few years rushed out to say hello to their old housemate. He had always been somewhat of a role model for them, so they were thrilled to see him.

"Hey Nicky! Chandler! How are you guys?" Elliott hugged them tightly before moving on to a sixteen year old who had been one of the youngest residents when Elliott lived there, and had become like a little brother to him.

"Hey buddy," he picked him up and spun him in a circle.

Sebastian strode up and held out his arms for a hug, too, but Elliott stepped back and shook his head.

"Go to hell."

He turned away to continue catching up with Nick and Chandler, and Sebastian's expression melted into something furious before he stormed away.

They sat and talked about everything that was happening in their lives until Elliott excused himself to go to Kurt's room.

"Hey there," he said when Kurt yelled for him to come in. "You look horrible."

Kurt pushed himself up to sit on his bed and glared at his friend.

"I changed my mind. I don't want you here."

Elliott laughed and crossed the room to give Kurt a hug, which he folded into and started sniffling.

"Aw, don't cry because you miss me so much," Elliott teased.

Kurt smacked his arm and laughed through his teary eyes.

"Tell me more about Blaine. I can't believe yesterday was the first time you told me about him. I'm sorry I've been so busy and we haven't had the chance to talk…"

Kurt began describing his relationship with Blaine from his first day at the home until the current predicament. After a few minutes, he stopped.

"Why does your face look like that?" he asked Elliott.

Elliott blinked and closed his mouth that had fallen open slightly, rearranging his astonished expression.

"Holy shit," he muttered.

"What?" Kurt asked, starting to fret.

"Kurt fucking Hummel, you are in love!" he whooped and threw a fist into the air.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Oh stop, I am not…" Elliott did not stop looking at him with expectant eyes and a pleased smile until he gave in. "Fine. I am. Of course I am. You would be too if you knew him."

Elliott put a hand on his arm, and his look turned serious. "I know that you never knew if it would be possible for you to find someone. I'm thrilled for you."

Kurt tugged Elliott by his hand into a hug and breathed heavily through his nose to stop himself from tearing up again.

"I love him and he can't even be in the same room as me. I thought - I know it's not that easy after what he's been through, but I thought he trusted me. More than anyone. But it's clear that isn't true."

"You're right. It's not that easy. I haven't talked to him, but from what you've told me, he associates you with touch and intimacy and feelings that he probably feels very out of touch with and unable to control. You've never hurt him, and he knows you never would, but he also thought things were turning around and everything that he thought he was learning was compromised. We see it a lot in our NCs who have been taken advantage of sexually. The hardest relationships for them to maintain are the serious ones with the deepest trust and connection."

Kurt ran his hands through his undone hair in aggravation. "So I'm just supposed to wait it out? This isn't easy for me to see him go through this!"

"That's not what I'm saying. Take it slow. Help him remember why he trusts you. Bring him back to that safe place. Start by letting him hear your voice. If he lets you in, have a conversation. Then see him face to face. Baby steps."

"I'm sick of baby steps!" Kurt cried, throwing himself down onto the bed. "We've been taking them since he got here. We'd come so far. I can't go back. I don't know if I have it in me."

Elliott fell silent. "I have just one question for you."

Kurt turned his head slightly to raise an eyebrow at his friend.

"Is he worth it?"

_**Day 5** _

It had started out innocently. Kurt came by Blaine's closed door a few times that first day and said, "Hi Blaine, how are you? I hope you're doing okay," or something similar.

It killed him that Blaine did not respond, but Elliott had been right.

Blaine was worth it.

_**Day 6** _

The second day, when Blaine didn't shout at him to go away, Kurt tried for a little more, and that was okay too.

"You should have seen Sebastian today when he got back from work. He had to garden. I think my dad made that assignment on purpose. Can you imagine? Sebastian. Gardening. He had dirt under his fingernails, and there was an actual spider in his shirt. Though I'm not sure if that was from the garden or if Nick put it there purposely… Either way, it was priceless."

Kurt thought he heard a humored snort from the other side of the door, so he continued.

"And yesterday, my dad walked in on little Colin...experimenting with himself. Definitely not the first time it's happened to my dad, but poor Colin hasn't shown his face since."

He was sure he heard a real laugh that time. He put his hand to the door, spreading his fingertips wide and imagining that it was Blaine's chest beneath them, rather than the hard wood of the door.

"Well, I've got to go. My dad and I are going to visit my mom." He leaned against the wall with a sad sigh. "I really wish you could have met her, Blaine, she was amazing. She's the reason all of this is possible. I'll come talk to you again tomorrow, okay?"

The quietest, most timid response was enough to fill his heart with hope.

"Okay."

_**Day 7** _

Blaine felt that he was making good progress in his recovery. He had talked to Kurt the day before, he was opening up to Emma and letting her help him sort out his emotions, and he was starting to leave his room more often for food. He was reading again to pass the time, and he looked forward to Kurt's visit that day, sure that it would brighten his spirits.

It accomplished the opposite.

"Hi Blaine. How are you doing today? I have to tell you something…"

Blaine heard Kurt slump against the door.

"I miss having you around. I miss your hugs. I miss your expressive, shining eyes and running my fingers through your soft curls. I miss hearing you say my name in that way that you have, like you can't believe I exist. I miss being close to you. I miss seeing your face. Please come back to me."

As Kurt spoke, a feeling he could not describe crept across Blaine's skin and burrowed its way into his mind and body.

Kurt missed being close to him, he wanted his eyes, his face, he might as well have said what they all said: "you're beautiful."

He had wanted so badly to come up to Kurt, to surface and breathe easily again, but the new feeling dragged him down, deeper than he'd been before. Even the person he thought he could trust not to push him wanted to push him.

Instead of falling into the depths of misery again, though, he succumbed to hopelessness and self-loathing. He wasn't good for anything other than being a pretty face or a body for someone to use.

As he had a year prior, he came to a realization.

He may not have been able to stop what was happening, but he could control the terms.

* * *

Blaine didn't bother putting on a shirt before tiptoeing up the stairs to Kurt's room late that evening. He felt exposed, but had learned that if he could control how much of his body was on display, he felt much calmer.

_Knock, knock, knock._

Kurt didn't answer to his quiet tapping, so he creaked the door open slowly and slipped inside, locking the door behind him.

Blaine's heart raced. Part of him hoped he'd find the Kurt he once thought he knew, even though most of him was resigned to believing that Kurt only wanted what everyone else wanted.

Taking a bracing breath, he slid down his pajama pants until he was left standing in the moonlight in only his boxer briefs.

He walked over to where Kurt's head poked out from the covers and pushed his hair back.

"Kurt," he whispered.

The other man stirred and rolled over, confused.

"Blaine?" He rubbed at his eyes. "Blaine. Oh my goodness, you're here! Come in." He pulled the sheets back to indicate that Blaine should get in bed with him, solidifying Blaine's worries.

Gritting his teeth and taking control, Blaine crawled into the bed, but didn't lay down. Instead, he threw one leg over Kurt's hip and leaned down to kiss him roughly. Kurt responded instantly, and Blaine breathed in the little surprised gasp that he made.

Kissing Kurt again was nice and scary and confusing and sad all at the same time. Kurt grabbed the back of Blaine's head and pulled him closer and kissed him more fiercely, like Blaine's kiss was all that was keeping him alive in that moment.

Little whimpers escaped Kurt while Blaine worked his way down Kurt's neck and downward toward where he could feel Kurt's desire growing.

"Blaine," Kurt whispered as the hem of his pajama top was pulled up so that Blaine could kiss the sensitive skin below his belly button. Blaine's hand made its way down to rub him through his pants, and that was farther than they'd gone before. " _Oh!_ Blaine, what are you doing?"

Blaine lifted his head and gave his best flirty smile. At least it wasn't hard to pretend he wanted this too. "Haven't you missed me? Doesn't it feel good?" He lowered his head again and continued working Kurt over.

"Of course I - _shit_ \- missed you. And it feels heavenly. I just thought we might - _oh my god_ \- talk about it first?"

"Just relax, Kurt, and let me take care of you." His voice sounded too harsh and unrecognizable, even to him, but he hoped Kurt didn't notice. At that, Blaine slid his hand under the waistband of Kurt's briefs and felt the hot flesh for the first time.

"Oh, oh, oh my god," Kurt said again. "Wait, Blaine."

Blaine looked up but didn't stop, because Kurt's body was responding so well, hips bucking up to meet Blaine's hand and chest heaving with pants of desire. He was so eager for Blaine's touch. "It's okay, Kurt, I'm okay. This is what I'm here for."

Kurt tensed and everything froze for a moment. He tried pushing Blaine away. "Jesus Christ, Blaine, no. Stop!"

Blaine immediately sat back on his heels, holding his hands up. He would never touch Kurt or anyone else without consent.

He watched as Kurt pushed his shirt back down and rearranged himself in his pants. Kurt pushed himself up to lean against his headboard so he could distance himself from Blaine, and he re-covered himself with the duvet.

Blaine saw the emotions flicker across his face - anger, disbelief, sadness, and love - and the newly built shell around his heart started cracking.

"Blaine, please tell me what's going through your head," Kurt begged, carefully regarding him.

Blaine bit his lip, trying to process what was happening. "You don't...want me? Like that?"

Kurt's words were measured and trepidatious. "Not here. Not now."

Blaine's face was blank as he waited for Kurt to elaborate.

"I'm not them. I only want you if you want it too. And after what you went through this week, I'm positive you're not ready."

"So when you invited me into bed…"

"I thought I could hold you and talk to you until we could reconnect and you felt safe with me again."

Blaine, still sitting back, looked dumbfounded.

"You rejected me. For the second time. You rejected me," he repeated.

"I'm sorry," Kurt started in, but Blaine cut him off by throwing himself into an embrace and crying into Kurt's neck. Kurt's arms immediately wrapped around him and held him closely, maneuvering the blanket from between them so they were both wrapped up under it.

"You rejected me," Blaine kept murmuring. " _Thank you._ "

And suddenly Kurt understood. Blaine had never been turned away when it came to his body. Everyone in a position to do so took what they wanted when they wanted, regardless of how Blaine felt about it.

The man in his arms shuddered and shook with powerful sobs, seeking solace in the only person to ever make him feel good about himself. Kurt soothed him the best he could, but knew Blaine had reached a bursting point and needed to let it run its course.

"You rejected me because you value me?" Blaine gasped through waves of tears, half-statement, half-question.

Kurt tightened his hold on Blaine. "I rejected you because I value you. Because I respect you." He took a deep breath and leaned in close to Blaine's ear. "Because I love you."


	10. Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A week ago I posted my 2018 Klaine Fic Exchange story, Like A Firework. Check it out if you haven’t yet, along with the other fantastic stories in the collection!

 

The world looked different through a lens of love. Kurt loved him, and colors seemed brighter, songs sounded happier, and problems seemed smaller. Loved. It was a way Blaine never would have described himself previously, nor did he think he ever would.

That night in Kurt's room had been a turning point for both of them; for Kurt, it helped him realize just how much he would do for Blaine, even if it meant going back to the start, and for Blaine, it helped him see that he was valued, and helped him past the acute trauma of the incident. Residual effects lingered, of course, as they always would, but he was making phenomenal steps forward again.

After that night, he had taken one more day to regroup, and finally let it all out in a session with Emma with Kurt by his side. Then he slowly eased back into work and school. He still struggled with being around strangers, so Burt made sure to only send him on jobs with people he'd worked with before. Burt also assured him that the manager Chris had been fired, and he'd cut ties with Greg despite his promises that nothing like that would happen again. With the help of everyone around him, Blaine was making it.

Weeks later, with Christmas and Hanukkah just around the corner, excitement was running high in the house, but so were tensions. Burt had received a letter from the NCEA stating that Hummel's Home was scheduled for its biannual inspection the day after Christmas.

Most of the boys had been in the home for at least one other inspection, and as they explained it to Blaine, it was a stressful hour of pretending to live in the poor conditions of the main floor of the home, and lying when asked questions about what their lives were like. The residents all committed to keeping their real living quarters and Burt's compassion a secret, because they all knew that graduating from Hummel's Home was likely their only ticket out of the system. If the lower level of the home was discovered, or the nature of Emma's true therapy sessions revealed, or anyone found out about the education Burt provided to the boys, it was only a matter of time before the 100% graduation rate of the house was found out.

Nothing Burt did was strictly illegal, but nobody was willing to put what they had at risk.

Blaine was nervous to have to pretend even for a few minutes, because he wasn't sure what falling back into the headspace of a horrible NC home would do to him. He was also afraid for Kurt, though he had been reassured that Kurt was a fantastic actor, and that he and Burt were so practiced, Kurt was unlikely to be caught, as long as everyone played their role well enough.

Worries aside, the holidays were more fun than Blaine could have imagined. The last time he had decorated a Christmas tree or baked Christmas cookies (or Hanukkah cookies, which Chandler insisted were a real thing) was his last Christmas at home with his parents. Unfortunately those happy memories were tainted with the bitterness he felt toward his family for allowing him to be marked without putting up a fight. How could he think fondly on family time when the one thing he wished he had more than anything else was his family? He tried looking on the bright side, though, and for the first Christmas in years, there was a bright side.

Hummel's Home was decked out from floor to ceiling in blue, white, red, and green tinsel, dreidels, ornaments, and of course, mistletoe, under which Blaine made sure to stand every time Kurt passed. Holiday music played on a nonstop loop, boys singing along at the top of their lungs to every word they knew.

One of the traditions of the house was for Burt to allow the families of the NCs to have Christmas dinner with them. The family members who still wanted contact with their children despite them being marked were invited, and Blaine was surprised to learn that so many of the boys' parents or siblings still wanted to see them.

Nick was crawling out of his skin with excitement.

"My dad will be here, and Jeff is coming back, too. I can't wait!"

Everyone seemed to have someone; Chandler had his mom, Sebastian had his older sister, and many of the younger boys had one or both parents planning to come. Blaine didn't mind, though, because he had Kurt and Burt. His family may have abandoned him, but he'd found a new family, and it wasn't the same, but it was pretty darn good.

* * *

"Merry Christmas, sleepyhead," Kurt whispered into Blaine's ear, followed up with a kiss on the cheek to encourage him to wake up.

Blaine groaned and rolled over in Kurt's bed - where he had been staying for the past week - before opening his eyes to a vision of his boyfriend already dressed and ready for the day.

"I have to go start brunch, but I wanted to be the first to wish you a merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you, too," he grumbled. "You're far too excited this morning. There's a literal gleam in your eyes. What's wrong with you?"

Kurt laughed and shrugged. "It's Christmas. What can I say? See you downstairs!"

Blaine smiled to himself at Kurt's enthusiasm as he rolled over face-down into the bed, and - _oh._ The friction of the sheets against his morning erection felt good.

It freaked him out at first, since he hadn't felt the urge to masturbate since he was a preteen experimenting in his bathroom at home, but as he slowly and rhythmically rutted into the mattress, he realized that it wasn't thoughts of the sexual trauma he'd faced cropping up in his mind, it was thoughts of Kurt.

Kurt slowly undressing, revealing his perfect skin as he stood before Blaine unabashedly.

Kurt trailing his long fingers down his own chest, pausing just at the waistband of his pants.

Kurt removing the rest of his clothes and opening himself up to Blaine without inhibition.

By the time his imagination progressed to Kurt climbing on top of him and tonguing at his inner thigh, Blaine was whimpering and squirming into the sheets.

His hand flew up and down his hard cock as imagination Kurt took it into his mouth, and it only took one twist of his wrist to come in his pajamas with a muffled moan, the vision of Kurt swallowing around him.

Blaine lay there panting in the aftermath, head cloudy, but feeling liberated and empowered.

He might not have been quite ready for his vision to come to life, but the idea that he could someday enjoy when he'd never thought it possible gave him a new hope.

* * *

" _Blaine Anderson, age twelve of Westerville, Ohio. Do you understand why you are in custody here today?"_

_Blaine blinked in the bright lights of the Ohio NCEA Headquarters. He felt disoriented after being thrown into the back of a van and brought to this place, not a word spoken directly to him until this point. He was angry and confused and he wanted his parents or his big brother._

" _No? Yes. I don't know?"_

_The agent sighed impatiently, steering him into a hard chair with straps on the arms and legs. He hoped they were just for decoration._

" _You have been caught engaging in undesired behavior. You are a homosexual. But it's okay, because from today forward, we will fix you."_

" _Fix me?" he repeated. He knew there were people out there who disliked gay people, but his parents and Cooper had always told him they would love him no matter what. They hadn't shown up to take him home, though, and tell the authorities it was all a mistake, so perhaps they hadn't told the whole truth. Perhaps they had meant they'd love him no matter what unless he was gay._

_The thought of being alone with no friends and no family, left in the hands of the cold, unforgiving NCEA agents terrified him. What was going to happen to him?_

" _We can correct your behaviors, Blaine. Especially someone as young and impressionable as you." She motioned for someone he couldn't see to come in the room. "If you don't try to move, it won't be necessary to use the restraints."_

_His blood ran cold at the underlying tone of her voice, and the sight of a tall man in gloves carrying in a tray with primitive- and unsterilized-looking tools and ink._

" _Are my parents coming?"_ To say goodbye _, he didn't say._

" _They aren't coming for you and they never will. It's best for you to forget you ever had parents, Blaine."_

_The tattooist pulled back Blaine's sleeve and without cleaning the area, set to work on his forearm with the blunt tool, causing Blaine to howl in pain._

* * *

Blaine sat at the far end of the table that had been extended to make room for all of the Christmas guests. He stared down at the remnants of his brunch and tried to make himself as small and inconspicuous as possible.

Some of the residents' family members had started to arrive, and the presence of strangers - especially inside the walls of his sanctuary - made Blaine uncomfortable.

Nick brought his dad in the room excitedly and sat across from Blaine, introducing them. Blaine stiffened at the unfamiliar person sitting so close, but focused on his breathing to stay calm and reminded himself that Nick would never let anyone hurt him. He wished Kurt was by his side, but they couldn't be seen together in front of the families, because as open as they all were about seeing their children again, many of them still believed in the NC laws and disapproved of homosexuality.

Blaine smiled politely through the conversation with Mr. Duvall, but eventually excused himself to the couch, only to find Sebastian already sitting there alone.

"Where is your sister?" Blaine asked. "I thought she was coming today."

"So did I," replied a surly Sebastian, crossing his arms and glaring at the ground.

"I'm sorry," Blaine said softly, and despite his history with Sebastian, he meant it, because he knew what it was like to be alone.

"Do you know how it feels to have everyone turn on you?" Sebastian whispered so quietly that Blaine was unsure if he was meant to hear.

"I think that's unfair to say when you've deliberately alienated the people around you," Blaine told him honestly.

"So you think I deserve to be alone on Christmas?"

"That's not what I—"

"I thought you were different from everyone else, but you're just like them, aren't you?" Sebastian stood and stormed off to his room, leaving Blaine speechless. He knew that behind Sebastian's icy exterior was a human with actual feelings, and that the cruelty was just a defense mechanism, but it took him aback to see Sebastian so upset when he was the one who was always put together, asshole or not.

Sebastian's place was soon taken by Chandler, whose mom and three brothers surrounded them.

"Blaine! This is my family. My mom Catherine, and my brothers Clark, Christopher, and Cameron. Guys, this is my roommate Blaine."

"Happy Hanukkah," he said, waving close to his body. Chandler's brothers were, unlike their little sibling, big and menacing-looking.

"Happy Hanukkah, merry Christmas!" They greeted him, Catherine with a hug, and the three boys with pats on the back, punches on the arm, and handshakes.

When they stepped back, Blaine was tense and hardly breathing. Chandler's oldest brother Clark was too tall and too buff and reminded him too much of Ethan, his former head boy, and he had touched him without his permission. Blaine was screaming inside his head, wanting to run.

Clark sat next to him on his other side, reaching for the game system controller and hitting Blaine on the arm to ask if he wanted to play.

Blaine jumped up. "I'm sorry, it was so nice to meet you all, but I have to go help in the kitchen," he said through gritted teeth before turning and practically running to the kitchen.

When he was safely around the corner, he slumped against the wall and put his hands on his knees to re-regulate his breathing.

"Blaine?" Kurt's soft voice asked carefully. "What...can I—?"

Blaine answered his unfinished question by straightening out and falling into Kurt's arms.

"I'm okay, I think. Just a little freaked out."

Kurt rubbed his back soothingly. "Thank you for coming to me."

"You make me feel safe," was Blaine's simple answer, and Kurt's heart melted.

"You're always safe when I'm around."

"Blaine!" Burt called, peeking his head around the corner, the startling interruption causing the boys to jump apart. "Come see me in my office."

Blaine turned to Kurt, confused.

"Let me put this ham in the oven and then I'll come with you."

Kurt finished up and led the way to his dad's office, squeezing Blaine's hand as he passed.

* * *

"Come in!"

Kurt opened the door and let Blaine into the full room first.

Three people sat in front of Burt's desk and turned their heads as he walked in, causing Blaine to stop in his tracks.

"Blaine, baby," his mom breathed, standing and extending her arms to him while Cooper and his dad watched.

"What…?" The words died on Blaine's tongue as he looked at his family sitting in front of him for the first time in six years. The very family he thought had abandoned him without looking back. They were older, more worn down, but they were the same faces that had once loved him.

"We've been looking for you since you left. Trying to find a way to get you back," his mother explained, tears in her eyes.

Blaine could feel that the words were true as they passed her lips. He launched himself into her embrace, holding her tightly. He soon felt another pair of arms come around them as well and they all muttered how much they had missed him and how glad they were to see him happy.

"I've missed you, little bro," Cooper said, sitting back in his chair. "Making fun of Mom and Dad just isn't the same without you."

"We've searched for loopholes in the law since the day you were taken, trying to get you back," his mom said. "We can't believe that boy would do that to you."

"I've heard horror stories about NC homes, and I could never help but picture the worst. I was so worried about you," Cooper admitted.

"When Burt here called and invited us for Christmas dinner, I've never been so happy. We finally get to see you! And you're living here, in this beautiful home where someone cares for you." She squeezed his arm so tightly he feared for his circulation. Today wasn't the day to tell her what he'd been through before coming to Hummel's Home.

His father had sat quietly, wringing his hands the whole time his mom and brother talked. Blaine looked over to him.

"Dad?" he asked tentatively. Of everyone in his family, he was most worried about his dad's reaction to his sexual orientation.

His dad looked up with watery eyes and broke his silence.

"I'm so sorry, Blaine, so sorry! This is all my fault! I should have known something was up with that family, and I should have been there quicker to take you away before the authorities arrived. You're my little boy and I never wanted—" he cut off with a choking sound.

Blaine threw himself into his dad's arms. "It's not your fault. You couldn't have known. Please. It's not your fault."

After comforting his father, he turned back to the rest of the room. Kurt and Burt watched on, Kurt resting his head on his dad's shoulder, a smile shining through on his tear-streaked face.

"So...you still love me?" Blaine asked, afraid of the answer.

"Of course we do, honey!" His Mom was quick to answer.

"Even though…" he wanted to word his phrase very carefully, because as much as he loved and trusted his family, he couldn't be sure how they felt about homosexuality now. "Even though I was gay?"

"You mean you _are_ gay," Cooper amended.

"We know it's not a disease that can be cured, Blaine," his dad told him.

He was floored. What had he done to deserve a family that loved him and accepted him wholeheartedly despite what society saw as a major flaw?

His eyes darted between his parents and Kurt and Burt, and he was warmed to the core to realize that what he envied in Kurt's relationship with his father, he could have as well. He wondered if they would be as accepting of his relationship with Kurt as Burt was. His grin lit up his whole face as he thought of the possibilities, but he decided not to push it. Not today, anyway.

"Come on, let me show you around."

* * *

"Did you have a good day?" Kurt asked later that night, winding his arms around Blaine, whose smile hadn't left his face since first seeing his family.

"The best. I don't know how to thank you and Burt enough for reaching out to them."

"No need for thanks, it's what we do," Kurt said.

"Maybe. But I know that if you'd talked to them and found out they were homophobic, or didn't want to see me, you would have protected me and not invited them."

He shrugged. "It's our job to look after each other, Blaine."

"Kurt, I just want to say that knowing you has been something out of someone else's reality. You've been so consistent and patient with me when I know sometimes it makes you want to scream. I am so thankful for you every day."

"I'm thankful for you, too. You are so pure and good that it makes my flaws glaringly obvious and gives me a chance to work on them, to become better every day. I want to be better. For you."

Blaine reached around behind him and pulled out a small bag to give to Kurt.

"Your Christmas gift."

"What? How? You shouldn't have," Kurt stammered, shocked that Blaine had gone out of his way to somehow get a gift for him.

"I convinced Burt to let me use some of my savings the last time I went to work for the Christensens. Though I'm pretty sure they gave me a serious discount," he laughed.

The look on his face was filled with so much pride in doing something independently that Kurt almost couldn't tear his eyes away. He finally did, and slowly opened the gift.

Kurt's fingers handled the soft cashmere of the deep blue scarf like it was the most precious material on the planet. He looked up to Blaine with wide eyes full of emotion.

"There are matching gloves in there, too," Blaine whispered.

"They're gorgeous," Kurt said in awe. "Thank you so much, Blaine." He set the gift aside gingerly and sank back into his bed, pulling Blaine on top of him. "You're amazing."

They kissed lazily for a while before Kurt made a squeak and sat up, pushing Blaine off.

"I forgot to give you your gift!"

"Oh, you don't have to—"

"Shut up." Kurt rolled his eyes. He took a nicely wrapped package out of his desk drawer and handed it over.

Blaine took the paper off carefully to find a leather bound journal with his initials branded into the corner, and a lovely fountain pen.

"You love reading, and you have such a way with words. I know we haven't talked about it much, but with a world of possibility open to you after graduating here, maybe you should consider writing? You deserve for the world to hear your story. Maybe it could even help someone like you."

Blaine trailed his finger along the soft leather of the journal, biting his lip.

"You think I could do that?"

"I don't think there's a limit to what you can do."

Blaine put the gift aside and curled up in Kurt's bed again.

"Thank you for believing in me."

Kurt snuggled into his side and pulled the blankets over them. "Thank you for giving me something to believe in."

They fell asleep that night, worries of the next day's inspection pushed far to the back of their minds by memories of the beautiful day they'd had, and the overwhelming love they felt for each other.


	11. Inspection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for your patience with me in getting this uploaded. It was almost ready to go and then little one decided to come early! Hoping the last chapter and epilogue won't take quite so long, but caring for a newborn is no joke! Until then, xo

 

Blaine sat up cross-legged in bed, watching Kurt and chewing the inside of his cheek in anxious contemplation. He rarely woke before the workaholic Kurt, so seeing him so quiet and peaceful was an unexpected treat. He had reached out multiple times in the last few minutes with the intent to brush Kurt's hair out of his face or place a kiss on his forehead, but stopped himself each time.

Ever since his morning masturbation session to fantasies of Kurt the day before and the amazing Christmas he'd had, Blaine had been unable to stop thinking about Kurt in _that_ way. As he watched him sleep, Blaine warred with himself about whether or not to act on his newfound urges. He felt strong and confident enough in his recovery to take another step forward, but it still made him nervous.

Kurt made the cutest little noise as he rolled over onto his back, and Blaine could see the bulge in his pants. No longer able to resist at least holding the perfect man, he stretched himself out along Kurt's side and kissed his face insistently.

"Good morning," he whispered as Kurt's eyes blinked open.

"Morning," Kurt replied contentedly, turning over again to lean into Blaine and give him a big kiss.

Blaine took a courageous leap and pressed his hips forward to meet Kurt's, groaning at the contact. Within seconds, Kurt jerked back so they were no longer touching. He scrambled to sit up and covered his reddening face, keeping a careful distance between them.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry, Blaine. It's morning and there's a perfect guy in my bed. I can't help it."

Blaine just smiled and shook his head, pulling Kurt's hands away from his face. "Hey, stop that. Let me take care of it."

When Kurt only stared back blankly, Blaine added (with a slightly smug smile at the pleasant shock he'd provided Kurt), "Please?"

"Are - are you sure?" Kurt whispered, as if afraid that speaking any louder would spook Blaine.

"You're the surest thing in my world," he affirmed, glowing.

_Wow_ , Kurt mouthed, nodded slowly and trying not to let his hormones get ahead of him. "Okay. Okay. But wait."

Blaine patiently waited while Kurt gathered his thoughts.

"Would...would it be too painful to tell me about your previous encounters? I don't have any experience with this stuff, but maybe it could help me know what to avoid doing? To make you feel more comfortable, I mean."

Blaine's eyes closed, overcome with emotion. He grasped onto Kurt's hands with both of his and said, "Of course I'll tell you. Thank you." Eyes still closed, he inhaled deeply before beginning. "Everyone was a little different, but for the most part, they were the same. Their clothes almost always stayed on, even if mine were off, making me feel small and vulnerable."

Kurt waited for him to continue, eyes growing sad.

"I never had any say in what was happening to me, either. Those guys decided what we did and when we did it and rarely gave me any warning. And as beautiful as they all said I was..." he shivered while Kurt traced his thumb delicately over Blaine's jaw scar. "...they never wanted to look at me while it was happening. It was usually quick and harsh, just enough to get them off and be done with it."

"So...nobody ever made you…?"

Blaine shrugged. "Not intentionally. There were a few times my body couldn't help itself, but nobody ever tried. And trust me, I didn't want it." He looked at Kurt earnestly, pleading with him to understand.

Kurt kissed his temple, then his jaw, then his lips.

"But you want this?" he asked one last time.

"No doubt in my mind."

Without a second thought, Kurt sat up slightly and pulled his shirt over his head, followed by his sleep pants and boxers. He lay back and looked at Blaine nervously, never having been exposed to anyone like that before.

Blaine's eyes roamed his body for only a second before he threw his own shirt on the ground and covered Kurt's body with his own. His warm, steady hands outlined the contours of Kurt's waist and hip as they kissed, sliding around to lightly rest on his ass. The movement prompted Kurt to hitch his leg around Blaine's hip and arch up into him.

" _Blaine_ ," Kurt mewled in a high, needy voice full of desire and emotion. With that, any remaining apprehension about what he was doing vanished, and Blaine was so sure that in that moment, he needed to be there in Kurt's bed, with Kurt, taking the next step in their relationship. Kurt made him feel secure, comfortable, and happy, and while Blaine could never trust anyone else with this act, he wanted nothing more than to give it to Kurt. The certainty with which these feelings hit him was frightening and beautiful.

"Just...let me stay in control. Okay?" Blaine pleaded needlessly. It was the only thing that he didn't think he could bear - to feel like Kurt was dominating him - but Kurt seemed to already know that, and was letting Blaine control the speed and intensity of their kisses and movements. He always had.

"Of course," Kurt said. "Just say the word and we stop."

It seemed like such a silly thing for Kurt to say at the time, when stopping was the absolute last thing on Blaine's mind, but he appreciated the sentiment behind the words.

"I love you, Kurt." The words fell out of his mouth, hot and sweet against Kurt's neck.

"I love you too. So very much - _ahh,_ " he cried as Blaine's hand wrapped around his cock.

Blaine somehow managed to kick off his pants with one hand occupied and his mouth worshipping Kurt's neck, and soon there was nothing between them.

"Can I?" Kurt whined, eyeing Blaine's newly bared lower half.

Blaine nodded, then gasped wildly, eyes flying shut. He had been sure he was ready, but nothing could have prepared him for how it felt to have Kurt's strong fingers curled around him.

"Okay?" Kurt asked, seeing Blaine's eyes pinched shut.

"Oh - oh god. _So_ much more than okay." They laughed, but the friction it caused turned the laughs into moans and Blaine brought his mouth back down to Kurt's, putting all the force of his emotion into the kiss.

They were lost in the feeling of each other, the depth of their love, and the need to be closer.

Kurt reached over onto the nightstand to squirt lotion into their hands, and the sensation exploded. Both boys panted and whined, writing in their own pleasure as they worked harder, quicker, more intensely for each other.

"Blaine, Blaine, oh fuck, I can't—" Kurt babbled, then cut off.

"Me either. Soon," Blaine moaned back, feeling the heat coil within him.

Their kisses subsided, leaving them resting lip to lip while their mouths slacked open in life-altering pleasure.

" _Oh, Kurt,_ " Blaine whimpered urgently. "I'm coming."

He felt the steel of Kurt's cock tighten even further at his words as they worked each other over until the last drop of come had been spilled, their bodies went limp, and their breathing began to even out again.

"Let me take care of this," Kurt said with a kiss to Blaine's shoulder. A moment later he was cleaning up the mess between them, and before Blaine knew it, he was cuddled naked under the comforter with the person who meant the most to him in the world.

"How was it?" he asked Kurt nervously.

Kurt threw his head back, eyes closed, reminiscing. "Mind blowing. Spectacular. Earth shattering. Can we do that every day for the rest of our lives?"

Blaine laughed, but it was tinged with emotion, because for the first time, anything seemed possible. He kissed Kurt sweetly.

"I will do anything in my power to make that dream happen for you."

* * *

All fourteen of the residents, Burt, and Kurt stood around in a circle on the main floor of Hummel's House. The easy, jovial atmosphere usually surrounding the boys had vanished and been replaced with anxiety and nerves.

"Check the person next to you and make sure their mark is showing and that they are dressed in the correct government-issued clothing. When we dismiss, go make your assigned bed look lived-in, and find something to do. Remember not to seem too happy - they don't want you to be. But also don't overdo it. Chandler, I'm looking at you. I remember last time. All right. You're free to go. Use your best judgment." Burt clapped his hands and dismissed the group, then turned to Kurt and gave him a weary look. He hated these days most of all. He wished it wasn't suspicious to treat his boys humanely. He also wished he didn't have to worry about his son being caught.

Kurt had dressed down in lounge shorts and an old McKinley High School t-shirt to avoid drawing attention to himself. He was stoic except for the edgy glances he kept throwing at Sebastian, who was the only person in the house he did not trust wholeheartedly to keep the secret. Sebastian was a jealous creature, and he had decided long ago that Blaine was who he wanted. It hurt him that Blaine chose Kurt and was distrustful of him, and Kurt suspected it was because of deep insecurities that Sebastian tried to hide with his cool exterior. Kurt had to believe, though, that despite his selfish jealousy, he knew that keeping quiet benefitted all of them, including himself. Believing the best in him was all Kurt could do.

When they had separated at his bedroom door earlier that morning, Kurt and Blaine had reached an unspoken agreement not to look at each other the rest of the day. Especially after the intimacy they had shared, their faces would have given them away instantly. Kurt did allow himself to watch worriedly as Blaine retreated into the communal dorm room where the boys were to pretend they lived, though, hoping that the day's events would not lead to yet another setback. With each setback they'd faced, however, Blaine seemed to grow stronger, and Kurt had confidence that Blaine could get through even the most horrible of inspections.

When the boys disappeared, he turned to his father, who could read his concern even through his carefully composed features.

"I won't let anything happen to either of you," Burt promised, throwing an arm around Kurt's shoulders and steering him out of the room. "Come on, let's go wait for them."

* * *

An inspection had never been more nerve wracking for Blaine. In his old home, no pretending was necessary. The biggest difference between then and now was that he hadn't ever had any hope before. No hope for things to stay the same or get better, and no hope that he might actually have a bright future.

The dorm door opened quickly and a short woman walked in.

"Hello, I'm agent Kelly, and I'll be performing your inspection today. I'll go through and have a few questions for you and then inspect the room. To make this move more quickly, I will be helped out by my assistant, Ethan."

A tall man stepped into the room behind her and Blaine's breath caught. It was _him. Ethan._

The shock of Ethan being there, in his new home, was stronger than the feeling of fear, which, Blaine noticed proudly, was minimal.

Sebastian was nearest Blaine and noticed something was wrong. All of the boys in the house were aware of Blaine's backstory by then, and knew that he had been abused by his former head boy, but nobody could have guessed that was what was happening.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at Blaine and took a small step closer.

"You okay?" he mouthed when the inspectors had their backs turned.

Blaine shrugged. Sure, it had been a shock to see Ethan at first, but he felt resilient, assured, and confident that nothing would happen to him. He'd come so far, and even though Kurt and Burt weren't in the room at that moment, he knew he could face Ethan with a strength he hadn't had before.

"Old head boy," he mouthed back to Sebastian, who then whipped his head around to glare at Ethan and tensed his shoulders, drawing himself up tall. He took another half step toward Blaine, angling himself between Blaine and Ethan.

Blaine's heart went out to Sebastian in that moment. He may have been an asshole, but he could be an asshole who cared when he wanted to be.

Agent Kelly and Ethan - who was apparently now an agent in training - went around questioning the boys and doing a quick sweep of each bed.

Ethan had yet to recognize Blaine, who kept his head down, but every time Ethan moved toward him, Sebastian found a reason to stand between them. Blaine hoped his expression conveyed his gratitude.

Agent Kelly approached Blaine next.

"Name?"

"Blaine Anderson." Ethan spun around at the name, despite how quiet Blaine had tried to remain. The mirth in his eyes was unmistakable as he stared at the interaction.

"How long have you been in this home, Anderson?"

"Just about four months, ma'am."

"What is a typical day like for you?"

"I get up, get dressed, grab a bite to eat, go out on whatever job I have lined up for the day, come back, eat dinner, and go to bed. Twice a week I have therapy after work."

She smiled, pleased with his answer.

"And do you think the therapy is helping you?"

"Oh yes, Agent." He nodded exuberantly. "I believe therapy has cured me of my disease."

"Good. That will be all." She turned away from him and began rummaging through his drawers and pulling the sheets back.

Ethan had moved on to questioning Sebastian. Blaine listened the best he could, hoping that Sebastian could hold his tongue.

"How do you feel your house manager and head boy are doing?" Ethan asked. Blaine stopped breathing while he waited for the answer. Of course they'd choose that question for him.

_Please be a decent human,_ Blaine thought desperately.

"Burt and Kurt? They're good. Burt does what he can to help us heal from our sickness, and Kurt helps him out in any way he can. They make sure we get to our jobs on time and that our work and therapy is always lined up."

Ethan jotted down Sebastian's response, smirking all the while. His eyes snaked up and over his notepad, across Blaine's face, his hair, his body.

"Thank you, Mr. Smythe." Ethan turned back to Sebastian and began to rifle through his fake belongings, finding nothing of interest. Then he pulled up the corner of the mattress and gasped.

"Agent Kelly, please come over here for a moment."

The woman marched over to look at what Ethan was pointing out and frowned deeply. She pulled out a short stack of papers with her gloved hand and looked to Sebastian.

"What are these doing here?"

Blaine choked on his own saliva when he saw that what she was holding was a pile of gay porn magazines. Blaine knew immediately it was another prank to get back at Sebastian for what he had done, meant to be harmless, but actually dangerous. House managers had all the power to punish for acts of homosexuality under their guardianship, and the inspectors could not legally take any action. However, they could make note of what was found and track Sebastian after that.

Sebastian's eyes went wide and his cheeks reddened.

"Those aren't mine. I swear. I've never seen them before!"

"Sure," Agent Kelly nodded sarcastically. "What do you say we turn these in to your house manager and let him decide what to do with you?"

"Fuck you all!" Sebastian screamed and stormed off to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Nick and two younger boys burst into laughter, and Blaine didn't have to ask to know he was the ringleader for the prank.

With Sebastian's buffer gone, Ethan had a clear path to Blaine. He started toward him, and Blaine prepared to face him when Agent Kelly called his name.

"Ethan! Come on, let's finish the inspection."

Ethan retreated, lascivious eyes never leaving Blaine's until he was around the corner.

Blaine breathed a sigh of relief when he was gone, but the rest of the boys began following him and Agent Kelly out into the hallway.

Blaine brought up the rear, Sebastian stomping out behind him, satisfied that everyone else had gone. He refused to look at Blaine.

"I swear I didn't know anything about it," Blaine told him sincerely. Sebastian continued to avoid his eyes.

Agent Kelly was already finished showing the evidence against Sebastian and was talking to Burt in the small dining area, asking him about his food shipments and contracts with employers for the boys.

Blaine broke the rule and searched for Kurt, who was also breaking the rule by looking at him.

Kurt furrowed his brow to ask if Blaine was okay, and Blaine shook his head in response.

He saw Kurt restraining himself from going to his side.

Blaine jerked his head in his former head boy's direction and mouthed _Ethan._

The reaction from Kurt was instantaneous. Like Sebastian, his posture grew more tense and he puffed out his chest. His eyes narrowed in hatred. Blaine knew Kurt would have put it all on the line to jump in front of him should Ethan make just one wrong move. He just prayed that didn't happen.

Blaine's attention was drawn back to the inspection when Ethan spoke up. "We're just going to make sure everything out here is up to code, and then we will be on our way."

Ethan made sure to walk as close to Blaine as he could on his way down the hall, nearly brushing his arm. Blaine shivered, trying his hardest not to dredge up horrendous memories of that touch.

A few minutes later and Ethan was nodding toward Agent Kelly.

"All right, we're finished here. We will see you again in another six months."

Sebastian, a new and scary determination set on his face, was standing next to Ethan and thanked him for his time. As he did, he leaned on the sliding panel that covered the staircase to the basement and gave it an extra bump with his hip.

"Oh, oops." His voice was dry and unapologetic.

"What the hell?" Ethan asked, watching the passageway be revealed. He flicked on the light and descended the stairs while every resident of Hummel's Home lost it.

Chandler and a few of the younger boys burst into tears, Nick couldn't stop the stream of profanities falling from his mouth, Blaine curled into a ball in the corner, and Burt and Kurt were trying to keep calm, silently devising a plan. All the while, Sebastian stood by with a self-righteous smile on his face.

A moment after, Ethan called up the stairs.

"Agent Kelly? Call headquarters for backup. We have fourteen boys to relocate tonight."


	12. Endings/Beginnings

 

The moment Ethan and Agent Kelly both disappeared down the stairs, all hell broke loose.

Nick charged at Sebastian, knocking him to the ground before anyone could intervene.

"You fucker!" he screamed into the shocked face of the perpetrator. "How dare you do this to us?"

Nick pulled his arm back to hit Sebastian, but was grabbed away by Blaine just in time.

"Let me go! He needs to pay for what he's done! We're all screwed now!"

Blaine shoved Nick back as he tried to rush forward again.

"Stop. You are just as much to blame here as he is," Blaine said calmly.

"Like hell I am," Nick spat as he struggled against Blaine's hold. "He just ruined all of our lives. Spiteful bastard."

"Hey!" Burt called, cutting off the snarling. "I won't have any fighting. Now is the time to support each other, to show your gratitude and hold each other up." He pulled the boy nearest to him into a bear hug. "There are only five other homes for male NCs on this side of Ohio where you could be relocated. There's a high chance you'll be placed with one of your fellow housemates. Stand with each other."

Blaine sighed, his head falling back in defeat as the gravity of the situation set in.

"Those other houses are _not_ like this one," he said to his friends. "But if being here has taught me anything, it's that I don't have to sit back and take the injustice, regardless of my status. Come together and stand for proper treatment. But be cautious. You've all heard parts of my story. Don't be too friendly with each other, and definitely do not touch, whatever you do. Be prepared for conversion therapy. Ration your food. Do not go see your head boy alone. Try to stay as clean as possible. And if your job assignment is a man's name, do whatever you can not to go."

Blaine deflated as he finished, realizing that he was giving his friends advice on how to stay alive in the face of their worst nightmares.

"We'll figure it out, Blaine," Chandler assured him. "We'll get creative. If there's a way out, we will find it."

Sebastian spoke up from his position in the corner where he'd been brooding.

"If we can get our story out there, without blowing Burt's cover, of course, we can get people on our side."

"And how do you plan to do that?" Nick shot at him.

"I haven't figured that part out yet. But just you wait."

Burt was making his way around the room, ignoring the arguing and hugging each and every one of the boys and whispering to them. Kurt caught Blaine's eye and tilted his head toward the bathroom before slinking away behind the door.

Blaine followed and locked himself in a stall with Kurt.

He slowly raised his eyes to meet Kurt's, the pain of knowing it could be their last time together too strong. They didn't speak of it, though, the possibility of Kurt being caught, or Blaine suffering irreversible damage by being shoved back into an abusive, neglectful environment.

Kurt just threw himself into Blaine's embrace and let his tears flow freely.

"We don't have much time," he whispered between gasps of air.

Blaine was strangely composed, though he felt the tugging sense of urgency. His hands, meant to hold Kurt, found their home wrapped around him. He turned his face to breathe in at Kurt's neck, memorizing his scent. He took a moment to appreciate the beating of Kurt's pure and compassionate heart against his chest.

"Kurt, I have to...thank you. Thank you for being you and for loving me. You've changed my entire world. You loved me when I was unlovable, touched me when I was untouchable, and gave me worth when I was worthless. I will never be able to tell you what that means to me. I love you so deeply. Please, please do whatever you can to avoid being marked. I don't know what I—" Blaine cut off to swallow back the emotions. The reality was that if they were both marked, the chances they could be together were practically nonexistent.

Kurt lifted his head and ran both hands through Blaine's thick curls.

"I'll do anything I can. You have to promise, too. Promise that you won't let anyone touch you without your permission. I can't imagine—" It was Kurt's turn to be unable to finish his thought.

"I promise." It was the easiest promise to make, for Blaine would never let it happen ever again.

Kurt gave a soft smile. "You know, you've changed my life too, Blaine. And I love you just as deeply." He placed a sweet, lingering kiss on Blaine's lips.

"This isn't goodbye."

Kurt shook his head. "No. Never."

Burt rapped on the door of the bathroom.

"Time's up, boys," he said, the sadness evident in his voice.

"No," Blaine felt the panic rising in his chest, calmness disappearing altogether. He grabbed Kurt by the waist and pulled him flush against his body. He kissed him again, all frantic tongue and desperation until they wrenched themselves apart, panting.

"Okay."

"Okay."

Blaine left the bathroom first, almost crashing directly into Burt.

"Is it okay if I hug you?" Burt asked.

By way of response, Blaine threw his arms around his stand-in father figure.

"I'm so sorry I can't keep protecting you, Blaine."

"Don't apologize," Blaine said firmly. "You've done more for me than anyone has ever done. You've given me a safe place to be myself, you've kept me fed and happy...and most of all, you taught me that I matter. So thank you."

He could have sworn that Burt wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

"I'm not going to give up until they reinstate Hummel's Home and bring you all back to me."

Blaine hugged him tighter. "Protect Kurt at all costs," he whispered.

Burt nodded before letting him go at the same time that multiple car doors slammed outside.

Blaine quickly ran over to Nick and hugged him too.

"You're an idiot, but you're the best friend I've ever had."

"You too, Blaine. Minus the idiot part."

The front door swung open and all of the boys fell silent and solemn. Ethan and Agent Kelly reappeared from the basement and began ordering the boys to follow the agents into the vans outside.

Blaine locked gazes with Kurt once more and they exchanged silent affirmations of love before Kurt slipped down the stairs at a quiet sprint while the agents were distracted.

When Blaine turned his attention back to the scene around him, he was prodded into line with his fellow prisoners, sent off to meet their new captors.

**Home 2140 (Sebastian)**

"Oh, hell no." Sebastian shook his head vigorously at the sight in front of him. "No way am I sleeping on that."

The bedroom in Home 2140 was a far cry from his plush, immaculate room at Hummel's. Everyone who knew Sebastian knew he was a clean freak. So much so that he put on gloves to make a salad. So seeing beds with soiled sheets (had they _ever_ been washed?) and feeling dirt beneath his feet made him turn up his nose immediately.

One of the boys nearby rolled his eyes. "This is what we've got. We're nothings. Nobodies. We take what we're given. Deal with it."

"You're obviously new here," another one chimed in. "This is what our lives are like. It doesn't get better for us."

Sebastian scoffed and made eye contact with Bradley, one of the fourteen-year-olds from Hummel's.

"Have we got news for you…"

* * *

Sebastian leaned back against the wall of the dorm, sighing contentedly. He had put every single resident to work cleaning. They had to be creative because of a lack of cleaning supplies, but the dorm and bathroom were finally up to his standards. Or at least acceptable enough to live in.

He walked into the bathroom to wash his hands and found the water shut off. Apparently there was a water limit each day.

Grunting in frustration, he turned to wait for the single stall. He waited and waited, but the boy inside never came out. Sebastian banged impatiently on the door, causing the boy to squeal in surprise, and something small and black clattered to the tile.

"Oh shit," Sebastian said, a grin spreading across his face as he picked up the cell phone. "I don't know who you are or why you have this, but I need to make a call."

**Home 1557 (Nick)**

Nick wrinkled his nose at the dirt and grime covering the floor of the house to which he had been taken. Brett and James, two of the other boys from Hummel's were next to him as a pristine-looking woman in heels clicked into the room carrying three bags. She held them out in the boys' general direction.

"Your things. You all know the drill, you've been in homes before." She sounded bored, like she had a thousand better things to do. "I'm the house manager, Kate. You can come to me or head boy Frankie with questions."

_Fuck!_ Nick bit his tongue to keep the curse internal. He'd heard enough from his friend to know that he'd been relocated to Blaine's old home.

He only had another month left until he turned eighteen, but he looked to the two boys next to him who still had years to go in the system and his heart went out to them.

He vowed to use his time there to keep the other two safe.

"I'll get you three on the work schedule for tomorrow, and for today, you will have therapy. Lights out at 9pm. You're free to go."

Nick almost rolled his eyes at the thought of therapy. Blaine hadn't ever gone into detail about the therapy he'd been through, but Nick had asked Emma about it and decided that he never needed to think about it again.

Until now, apparently.

He and the boys deposited their bags onto their assigned cots, which were stained beyond repair and Nick had to wonder when anything in the house had last been repaired or replaced.

The bedroom was empty since the other boys in the home were all working, so Nick sat down Brett and James and looked them square in the eyes.

"Therapy is going to suck. But you have to pretend. Don't ever forget what Emma taught you. There's nothing wrong with being gay…"

* * *

Nick managed to keep himself and James and Brett safe and relatively untraumatized the first week. There was still the issue of the disgusting state of the home, the lice infestation, and the head boy relentlessly pursuing Nick and trying to get him alone, but those things were all somewhat manageable. What they could not overcome, though, was the hunger.

"Is it always like this? Not enough food?" Nick asked Robbie, one of the older boys who had lived in the house for years.

"Always," Robbie whispered, afraid to be heard talking to another resident.

"You know we don't have to stand for this," Nick told him.

"What do you mean?" His interest was piqued, and two others nearby were now listening.

"The money we make working is supposed to go to home upkeep and food. Instead, it goes into Kate's pocket to fund her shopping habit. What would happen if we were to, say...refuse to work until she spent the money on food for us?"

More boys had gathered around Nick.

"We're listening…"

* * *

They were locked in a standoff. The residents sat in the rundown common area in solidarity, refusing to work. Kate refused to give in on spending the money on food.

"If you don't go to work, I won't buy any more food at all," she threatened them.

All fourteen boys stared back at her, none taking the bait.

"Fine. Starve, then. I don't care." She stormed out of the room just as the doorbell rang.

Hope soared through Nick that it could be someone who could make Kate surrender, but he quickly quashed that thought, knowing the NCEA would side with her, no matter the legality of the situation.

He heard voices and Kate's harried explanation of why her residents weren't at work.

Their footsteps came closer as the boys looked at each other, preparing to be told they needed to comply, even ready for force to be used against them.

The first person in the room was a camerawoman, followed by a reporter with a microphone and Nick's breath caught in his throat. What was happening?

Kate walked in next, a pinched expression on her face.

"Boys, these reporters are doing a story—"

"—An exposé," the reporter cut in.

"—on NC homes. They'll be interviewing you."

One last person entered the room.

"Elliott!" Nick gasped. "What's going on?"

Elliott threw a smile in his direction. "You can thank Sebastian fucking Smythe for this."

**Home 934 (Chandler and Blaine)**

Blaine couldn't stop the sigh of relief that flew from his lungs when his van pulled up outside his new home because it wasn't Kate's.

He and Chandler and two others from Hummel's had been relocated to this unfamiliar place, and Blaine could tell it was in better condition than his first home.

He quickly learned that appearances could be deceiving. Things were relatively clean compared to Kate's, and the food was slightly more plentiful, but the house manager, Joe, and head boy were downright evil.

The boys in Home 934 were like maximum security prisoners. They weren't allowed to speak, weren't allowed outside, weren't allowed any downtime. When they weren't working or sleeping or in therapy, they were working for Joe's side business, toiling away into the early morning hours.

Aside from the lockdown, things could have been worse. As long as the boys followed the rules and didn't slip up, they didn't have to worry about punishment, which they had learned was severe after someone dropped and broken an order he was putting together for Joe's business.

But then, on the fifth day, Blaine's work assignment was the worst thing imaginable.

"Joe?" he called through the door of the house manager's office.

"It's open," Joe responded.

"My work assignment for today says 'Paul.' I've been around long enough to know what that means." Blaine crossed his arms over his chest.

Joe smiled saccharinely over his clasped hands. "Yes, Anderson. You're too beautiful to waste. I showed off your picture to my buyers and there are a line of men waiting for their turn with you."

Blaine fought down the bile that rose in his stomach. "Sorry." He backed up further into the doorway, ready to run if necessary. "I don't do those kinds of jobs."

"Sorry," Joe mocked. "You don't have a goddamn choice."

"Don't I? Whoring me out is illegal."

"The NCEA doesn't seem to care."

"Maybe not," Blaine hedged. "But the national news does."

Blaine spotted the moment of uncertainty that flickered across Joe's face. "And how do you plan to contact any reporters?"

"You sent Trevor out to a job in a store I'm very familiar with. He has been instructed to let them know what's happening."

"Whatever. You're bluffing. You'll go visit Paul and you'll do what he asks of you. Or you'll face severe disciplinary action."

Blaine narrowed his eyes and backed out of the room. "Your loss."

_Shit._ Time for Plan B.

* * *

The car bringing Blaine to Paul's came to a stop outside a tall apartment building.

Blaine had calculated the risks of jumping out of a moving vehicle and was contemplating the various ways to escape without having to go inside when his employer for the day approached and Blaine's brain stopped functioning.

He swallowed the name that he knew he couldn't utter as he stared with wide eyes and tried to compose his face.

"Paul?" he asked when he recovered.

"Blaine. Come with me."

The car drove off, but Blaine didn't dare say anything until they were safely inside and the door was locked behind them.

He looked around briefly to see cameras and reporters and and another familiar face.

He turned back to the man who had hired him for the day. His arms opened to Blaine, who collapsed into them in relief.

"Cooper…"

**Hummel's Home**

Burt Hummel was an honest man. He prided himself on always being upfront. People came to him when they wanted to hear the unembellished truth.

In the last week, he had lied more than ever in his lifetime.

_Yes, their wardrobe is updated, but still within the approved standards. ._

_Yes, we use their income to go toward upkeep on the house. That's why the living standard is so high here._

_Yes, our therapist uses very effective techniques._

Okay, so maybe the last one wasn't exactly a lie. Emma's techniques just weren't effective in the way the NCEA was looking for.

Since the fateful night of the inspection, Burt had spent five days having his home ransacked and being questioned by every possible agency. People who were trying to shut him down for good flooded his house daily. He was sick of it. But if there was even the smallest chance that he could be reinstated, he would endure the repetitive questions, the intrusive searches, the lies.

He lied only when he had to, or when the truth could lead to uncovering an illegality. In reality, very little of Burt's operation was illegal.

There were no laws against educating NCs, no laws dictating how frequently they had to work, and no laws banning NCs from keeping personal items in their homes. In fact, it was not even illegal to graduate 100% of the NCs in a home, as long as the therapist and house manager were in agreement.

What was illegal was Burt saving the boys' money for them to take when they left the system, allowing the boys to cover their marks in the home, Emma's approach to therapy, and hiding Kurt from the NCEA.

Burt was being monitored every minute of every day, so he couldn't reach out to anyone to check on his boys or to ask his employers to contact the other homes, but he had been following the news.

All week they'd been teasing at an exposé on conditions for NCs, and Burt hoped. He knew that one story on the national news wouldn't necessarily bring about the changes that needed to happen, but still he could dream.

It wasn't until the news station vans pulled up outside of Hummel's Home that he realized the involvement of someone on the inside and his hope turned into expectation.

* * *

Burt was alone.

The NCEA had left earlier that day and the house was empty. Now he awaited their decision.

He turned on the television and flipped through until he found what he was looking for: the exposé, where his interview would be aired.

What he hadn't expected was to see the faces of his boys on screen, most of all, Blaine's, telling of his awful experiences before Hummel's Home, and how Burt changed his life.

_I had nothing before I was taken to Hummel's Home. I was broken and abused and the life had been sucked out of me. Burt showed me compassion when most of the world acted like I wasn't good enough. His home gives kids like me a place where they're taken care of. We might be non-conforming, but we're people, and we deserve to be treated as such. If it was your child, your brother, your sister, your friend, wouldn't you want them in a safe place while their homosexuality was being corrected? So please, call your local NCEA agent and tell them to reinstate Hummel's Home. And fight for fair living conditions in your local home. Don't let what happened to me happen to anyone else._

A tear rolled down Burt's face as he listened. Blaine was so eloquent, and the difference between the man on the screen and the kid who showed up at his door that night a few months ago was drastic. He was resilient, bright, and hopeful now.

Burt felt some sense of pride, knowing he had helped save the lost boy. If only he could save him again.

* * *

_Ring ring_!

The phone cut sharply through the too-silent air of the empty house.

Burt stared at it and let it ring longer than he normally would have, too nervous to talk to the person on the other end of the line.

_Ring ring!_

Finally, he forced his shaky hand to pick up the relentless phone.

"Home 2461. Burt Hummel speaking."

"Hummel, this is Agent Kelly calling to inform you of the status of your home."

Burt gulped and wiped his sweaty palm on his pants. This determined his future, and the futures of dozens of kids he may or may not be able to help.

"Yes? I thought you were supposed to call me two days ago."

"We...had to adjust our plans slightly. After the story aired, we've had an unending stream of phone calls, letters, and protesters. They've been extremely...persuasive. The whole institution is being upended by what was revealed and the people's response."

Burt almost dropped the phone. "Are you saying I can stay open?"

Agent Kelly sounded tired. "You're on probation. There will be someone from the agency checking in on you every day. But yes. Your boys will be returned to you tonight."

"Thank you," Burt whispered, clenching his eyes shut to ward off tears. "Thank you."

* * *

The vans started rolling in after dinner that evening.

He greeted each of the boys with a huge hug before sending them off to shower and change and promising them a hot meal afterward.

It made him so happy to see his residents back, unharmed and feeling empowered.

When Sebastian stepped out of his car, he hugged Burt and whispered, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, bud. You helped redeem yourself by reaching out to Elliott. How did you get a phone, anyway?"

"Let me get cleaned up, and then I'll recount the story for everyone. I'm sure we all have things to share."

The last car to pull up was Blaine's. He practically sprinted up to his house manager.

"Burt! I'm so glad to see you again! How did you do it? How did you get them to let you reopen?"

Burt laughed at Blaine's enthusiasm, ecstatic to see that he hadn't regressed during his time away.

"It was you and your interview. You convinced people that what we're doing here is right. The NCEA had no choice."

"I'm so glad."

Blaine looked around eagerly, but didn't find what he was searching for.

"Where's Kurt? I thought he'd be out here waiting for me…"

Burt's stomach dropped as he watched the excitement fade from Blaine's face. Of course he didn't know.

He took a deep breath and prepared to break the young man's heart.

"Blaine, Kurt's gone."


	13. Lost/Found & Epilogue

 

"Good morning."

Blaine opened his tired eyes to see Chandler standing by his bed, leaning over him.

"This is eerily reminiscent of my first morning here," Blaine groaned.

Chandler bit his lip and rocked up onto the balls of his feet, and by the way he didn't laugh at the joke, Blaine could tell he had something serious to say.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Something's going on," Chandler explained vaguely.

Blaine pushed himself up to a seated position. His heart sped up at the possibility that there could finally be some news. "Something about Kurt?"

Chandler shook his head, dashing Blaine's hopes. "No. Something big, though. Come out to the living room."

Blaine grumbled as he dragged himself out of bed. It was the first night he'd spent in his own bed since three weeks ago when he'd first returned to Hummel's, and that was only because he was too exhausted the night before to haul himself up the two flights of stairs to Kurt's room. They had celebrated Nick's graduation with a goodbye party, and while Blaine tried to join in the laughing and partying, Kurt's disappearance weighed too heavily on his mind to even force a smile. It seemed far too difficult to celebrate anything at all when Kurt was missing and his absence consumed Blaine's every thought.

His fingers trailed across the neck of Kurt's sleep shirt that he'd taken to wearing even though it didn't smell like him anymore. He smiled, picturing the look Kurt would give him upon seeing him in his clothes. God, he hoped he'd see that smile again soon. It had already been too long, yet he remembered the day he found out Kurt was gone like it was yesterday.

* * *

" _Blaine, Kurt's gone."_

" _What? When will he be back?"_

_Burt shook his head, frowning. "No, Blaine, he's_ gone _gone. He won't be back."_

_Blaine stood staring at Burt with his mouth open. He couldn't make sense of the words._

" _But...Where did he go?" Wherever it was, Blaine would go too, as long as Kurt wanted him._

" _I don't know. The night of the inspection...I don't know if they found something incriminating or what, but they took him." Burt's voice cracked on the last word and his fists clenched at his sides. "They took my boy."_

_Blaine felt like the breath had been knocked out of him. Kurt was gone. The government had him and had for a week. He would be marked by now. All of Blaine's visions of a future with Kurt shattered in an instant._

_He ran into the house with no awareness of his body in space, crashing into the door frame on the way in. Flying past housemates who tried to greet him and and an angry Sebastian shouting about his possessions being meddled with, he made his way to Kurt's room and slammed the door behind him._

_He breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of everything just how they had left it._

_He wasn't sure what he had been expecting. Had he thought everything would be gone and the room would be empty, like Kurt had never existed?_

_Blaine crawled into Kurt's bed even though it was still light outside, and only then did he start to cry. He buried his face in Kurt's pillow, which smelled like him, but it did little to calm him._

_Everything had gone perfectly. They were back together and back with Burt and the country was now aware of the awful truth about NC homes. In some places, people were even starting to advocate for their rights._

_Everything was supposed to be better._

_But Kurt was gone and if they had marked him, they could never be together._

_Blaine muffled his sobs by shoving the pillow in his mouth. As he burrowed deeper into the bed, his fingers came into contact with something hard and smooth. Under the pillow lay the books Kurt had given him the first day they met and his Christmas gift. Kurt must have assumed that the NCEA would clear out the bedrooms and taken Blaine's most prized possessions for safe keeping._

_The thoughtfulness Kurt demonstrated in the face of fear for himself and his own future just made Blaine cry harder._

_He cried for the loss of the only person he'd ever loved. He mourned for Kurt's bright future. He wished for a miracle._

* * *

Three weeks later, and Blaine was just as lost and confused.

Since the day Kurt left, Burt had tirelessly tried tracking him down. It shouldn't have been so difficult, but it was like Kurt had disappeared off the face of the planet.

Any calls to the other homes on their side of Ohio were met with the same response.

"Sorry, Mr. Hummel, we haven't had anyone named Kurt placed with us."

His search expanded to the homes in the rest of Ohio, and even up to Michigan, but all to no avail.

"They must still have him at the NCEA headquarters, then," Burt growled to Blaine in frustration. That thought was terrifying. What would they want with Kurt there after marking him?

Burt called the Ohio NCEA repeatedly, only to be told the same thing.

There was no record of a Kurt Hummel ever coming through their system.

Neither Blaine nor Burt dared to say or even think what that probably meant. It had been known to happen before, according to the rumors. A boy or girl was taken into custody to be marked and fought back, causing the agents to use excessive force against them. They were never heard from again, and wiped from all records as if they'd never even existed.

But it was impossible that Kurt could have met that fate. He couldn't have died. Blaine needed him. Burt needed him.

With a dark fear spreading through their chests and threatening to overtake them, they refused to give up.

Bringing himself back to the present, Blaine tore himself away from the endless cycle of terrifying thoughts that plagued his every sleeping and waking moment and wandered out to the living room as Chandler had instructed.

Burt and most of the guys in the house were gathered around the television, watching, pacing, fidgeting. The older boys were muttering reassuring words to the younger ones, and sharing meaningful looks with each other. The residents had only grown closer after returning home, and tensions between Sebastian and his housemates had diminished since he had apologized and was working on making amends with most of them. They had all, even Sebastian, been unfailingly supportive of Blaine through the last three weeks, for which he was eternally grateful.

"What's going on?" Blaine whispered to Sebastian.

"Reports are coming in from Washington that the Supreme Court is voting on the NC laws. I'm not sure why it's been under wraps, but they are deciding whether states should be given control over our rights."

"Oh. Oh shit," Blaine muttered, the implications sinking in. It would be overwhelmingly bad news if they were to vote yes. While a few extremely liberal states may loosen regulations, some states, including their own Ohio, were sure to tighten them.

Possibilities started swirling around in Blaine's head. They could extend the harsh NC laws to adults over eighteen. They could decide that nobody was ever cured and keep all NCs in the system forever. They could legalize the sex trade. So many awful things could happen if Ohio was given the right to make decisions about their lives.

He prayed to a god he no longer believed in for his sake and the sake of every other gay person in his backward state.

The breaking news jingle played and all the boys snapped to attention.

"The Supreme Court has reached a decision in the NC law case. They have voted in favor of allowing the states control over their own NC laws."

Blaine tuned out the rest of the newscaster's words, which couldn't be heard over the cursing and shouting of his friends anyway.

He noticed Burt sidle protectively toward him and they locked eyes. They both knew that everything Burt had done to defy the law could be in vain if the state didn't allow him to graduate his boys. And they both knew that if Kurt was still out there somewhere, turning eighteen might no longer mean safety for him.

* * *

Two months had passed without any sign of Kurt. Burt and Blaine were somewhat limited in their search efforts because they were restricted to the house, but Nick and Jeff had been looking for him around Ohio, and had rounded up Elliott to help as well.

Blaine had confided in Emma (who was not allowed back to work under Burt as a precaution, but still came by for therapy sessions for the kids) that with Kurt's eighteenth birthday being the previous day and Ohio having yet to change their NC laws, he hoped that Kurt would show up soon. Emma's response was the exact opposite of what he had wanted to hear.

"Blaine, I think you need to start preparing yourself for the worst. It's quite likely that you won't ever see Kurt again," she said as kindly as possible.

He clenched his teeth. He knew it was a possibility, but hearing it aloud hurt. "No! I can't accept that. I won't. He's coming back."

The look she gave him was pitying, but he returned it with a hard stare.

"He's coming back."

Yet, as the week passed and Kurt did not turn up, Blaine started to lose confidence.

"Maybe he's waiting for my birthday. To surprise me," he said at lunch with Chandler and Sebastian, more to himself than to them.

But the morning of Blaine's birthday rolled around and Kurt wasn't there waiting at the foot of his bed with kisses and _I missed yous_ like in his dreams.

_He's probably waiting for my going away party tonight,_ Blaine reasoned, but even his thoughts sounded half hearted in his mind.

Then his graduation party came and went and his love was still nowhere to be found.

_Maybe he forgot it was my birthday,_ Blaine mused internally.

_Or maybe he's dead,_ the awful intrusive thought crept in.

It seemed more likely with every passing day. They'd had plans for what would happen after Blaine's graduation since thanksgiving. The day was supposed to mark the beginning of their lives together. Blaine knew that if Kurt wasn't there, something serious must have happened.

Before bed on his last night at Hummel's Home, he looked around Kurt's room at the boxes of his belongings he had packed in preparation to move out to California with Cooper the following day. Since Cooper had posed as an employer to save Blaine from working horrible jobs when Burt's home was closed, they hadn't spoken. He was so glad that Cooper had reached out to Burt to arrange for Blaine to come to him after he left Hummel's Home. After years of despairing over losing his family, Cooper's involvement in his life meant everything.

What sweetened the deal was the announcement a few weeks prior that in the face of states threatening to make conditions worse for gay teens, New York and California had loosened their NC laws after the federal ruling. They tightened regulations over NC homes to improve living conditions, and eliminated any residential programming for anyone over eighteen aside from mandatory support groups. Adults with NC markings were even allowed to cover them in public. It was revolutionary in the fight for equal rights, and Blaine was going to live there. Yet he couldn't even bring himself to celebrate.

Burt knocked on the door and came in to sit on the edge of the bed, looking at Blaine with a sea of emotions in his eyes.

"Colorado followed suit with California and passed their NC laws. I wanted to be the one to share the good news with you."

"That's great," Blaine said dully, unable to muster much excitement.

"You should be happy. You're graduating the system. You're going to California, where you can be free."

Blaine just gave Burt a sad smile.

Burt dropped the pretense and looked at Blaine heavily. "You don't have to go, you know. You can stay here with me."

"I can't. I couldn't stand to be in this place that reminds me of him every day when he's not here. I couldn't deal with watching the new head boy take his place, knowing that someone else is making the food I eat. Not to mention what might happen with Ohio's NC laws. I just...What happened to him, Burt? Why hasn't he come back to us?"

The pain was evident in Burt's frown. "I don't know. But I just can't believe that he's gone for good. I won't ever stop looking for him."

"Me either."

"Hey," Burt said with a half smile and nudge to Blaine's knee. "What if he's out in California waiting for you?"

"That's a nice thought."

Blaine had stopped deluding himself about Kurt showing up to surprise him, but still he drifted off to sleep that night dreaming of arriving in California with his brother and Kurt waiting to greet him.

* * *

Exhaustion swept through Blaine as he stumbled off the plane at LAX. Though he'd spent the whole early morning flight convincing himself not to hope that Kurt would magically be in LA when he landed, he couldn't stop his eyes from scanning the crowd at the arrivals gate.

"Blaine! Over here!"

Oops. In his search, he'd completely missed Cooper.

"Hey Coop." He smiled into his brother's shoulder as they hugged.

"You're free, Squirt! It's all over!" Cooper spun him around, and his enthusiasm was contagious.

Blaine laughed, a sound he had missed hearing from himself. "I am. But freedom is tiring. Can we go home now?"

_Home._

And just as quickly as he'd grown excited to be reunited with family, the darkness crashed back down around him. The only place he'd thought of as home in the last seven years was Burt's house with Kurt.

"What's wrong, Blaine?" Cooper looked worried.

"I...in the car, okay?" If Blaine had to break the news to his brother that he was in love with Kurt, he'd rather have him be distracted with driving. He couldn't explain why he was nervous to tell Cooper, since he had been so clear on his supportive stance on Blaine's sexuality. Sometimes, though, it was easier to support something in theory than to see it in practice.

As they shut the doors behind them in Cooper's unnecessarily fancy sports car, Blaine took a deep breath and turned to his brother. He was desperate for Cooper to accept this about him.

"Remember Kurt? The head boy at my house?" Cooper nodded as he began pulling out of his parking spot. "When everything happened with the investigation, he was taken by the NCEA. He's...he's gay, too, he just was never caught. Burt always protected him. Until he couldn't."

Cooper's eyes shifted to watch Blaine momentarily. "What happened to him?"

"We don't have any idea, Coop. He's been missing since that day, and the NCEA denies that they have any idea what we're talking about. Burt and I and a lot of the guys have been looking for him, but nothing." He swallowed hard and looked at his big brother to gauge his reaction. "I'm taking it so hard because - because…"

When he couldn't bring himself to finish, Cooper cut in with his kind, nonjudgmental voice. "Because he's your boyfriend. You love him."

Blaine nodded, blinking back tears. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I wasn't sure—"

"Stop it." Cooper's hand was on his arm. "You really miss him, don't you?"

Blaine clutched the hand on his arm tightly. "More than anything."

"Don't worry. We'll find him."

Cooper's certainty and acceptance gave him more hope than he'd had in weeks.

* * *

"Hello?" Jeff answered his phone, stretching out his unclothed body next to Nick's on the couch where they'd just been making love.

"You're needed for a rescue mission."

"Um...who is this?" He frowned through the phone at the mystery caller.

"Oh! Sorry. It's Elliott. This is my work number."

"Ahh," Jeff said, understanding. While he had been in Columbus, he'd been helping Elliott track down NCs who had been abused in their adolescence and bringing them to the facility where Elliott worked.

"Yeah, so I really need you and Nick to come help out with this one. Like, right now."

"Sorry, El, we're supposed to leave tomorrow morning for California." They had been planning to go to New York after the news broke that they were the first state to change their NC regulations for adults, but then Blaine had called saying California followed suit and he was moving out to be with his brother, and their plans changed.

"I know you are. And I know it's a lot to ask for you to change your plans a little."

"So why are you?"

"Because this mission is time sensitive. It's for Kurt."

* * *

" _Kurt Hummel," the agent who had taken him into custody from the house sneered. "Looks like your daddy is going to be in a lot of trouble. And you seem to be going the same way."_

_His assistant held up a red notebook. "We found some interesting information in here. This is the journal of Sebastian Smythe. There are many claims in here that you and one of the boys in the home were sneaking around together doing illegal things. Illegal_ homosexual _things."_

_Kurt gritted his teeth._ Damn Sebastian _. "Which boy? It's not true."_

" _Blaine Anderson."_

_Kurt's heart started to pound, but couldn't let his distress show. If their relationship was found out, Blaine would never be able to leave the system._

" _He'd never. His therapy has been very successful and he doesn't think about other guys like that anymore."_

" _Then how do you explain Mr. Smythe's statements that you two were flirting and sneaking off?"_

_Kurt bit his lip. He'd promised Blaine he would do anything to avoid being marked. But protecting Blaine was far more important._

" _We weren't. We're friends. It was me flirting with him, but he didn't return the sentiment._ "

The agent raised an eyebrow. " _Are you saying what I think you're saying, Mr. Hummel?"_

_Kurt gulped and nodded._ Protect Blaine. _"I'm attracted to men."_

_The agent's face was carefully controlled, but Kurt could tell he was secretly pleased with this turn of events._

" _How have you gotten away with it this long?"_

Protect Burt. _"Nobody knew, not even my family. I'm very good at pretending."_

" _Well, well, well." He stashed the notebook in a bag and stood. "Let's go get you in a waiting room while I call the tattoo artist. You're long overdue for a marking."_

* * *

Three months later and he was back in the same place. Kurt smacked the wall of the holding room into which he'd been locked. He had escaped the NCEA when they'd taken him right after the investigation, and now he'd been caught again. It was worth it, though, to save that sweet girl he'd helped get in a car headed to a safer place.

Thankfully, he was over eighteen now, but the NCEA had been looking for him for months. He didn't think he'd be let off the hook easily. Plus, he'd heard rumblings of changes to the law, that adults might be able to be marked and treated just the same as adolescents. The thought chilled his blood.

He had only minutes to figure out how to get out once again, but the agents had increased protective measures this time, knowing he was a flight risk.

_Fuck_. He resorted to slumping against the wall and closing his eyes, readying himself for the worst.

For a moment, he imagined the impossible, that Blaine would come let him out and they'd run away together.

God, he missed Blaine. It had been far too long since he'd seen the renewed twinkle in his eyes, the soft smile playing at his lips, the perfect curl of his hair...He wanted to be back in his room at his dad's house, leaning against the headboard with Blaine by his side, legs and shoulders pressed together. Blaine would read one of Kurt's books, wonderment written all over his face as he toyed absently with the corners of the remaining pages. Kurt would glance over at him, fidgeting until he caught Blaine's attention, then kiss him senseless.

If only…

If only Sebastian hadn't been a prick who exposed their secrets and Hummel's Home hadn't been shut down. He had only had limited access to the news, so he wasn't sure what had happened other than that the home had been reopened. He hadn't been able to get any information about the boys, and he wondered every second of every day if Blaine was okay.

What if he'd had to return to his former home? What if he'd been mistreated and abused again and lost all of the progress he'd made toward recovery? What if he was sent back out to do work for the sex trade? He wouldn't have his medication in his new home, and what if he tried to hurt himself again? What if—

"Kurt!" an urgent, vaguely familiar voice whispered.

He startled and his eyes opened as he searched around for the source of the voice, but finding nothing.

"Yeah?" He whispered back nervously. Was someone really there to save him, or was he hallucinating his rescue? Surely, though, if it was a figment if his imagination, his mind would have made it Blaine's voice that spoke to him.

"We're here to get you out." His head turned toward the side door to the room, through which the voice came.

_We_? Who was _we_? He approached the door carefully. "Who are you?"

"It's Nick. Elliott sent Jeff and me." _Oh._ "I'm going to open the door and when I do, follow me. Run."

And run he did.

* * *

Only when they'd crossed the border into Indiana could Kurt breathe again.

He was packed into the middle of Jeff's Suburban, stuffed between duffel bags and bedding, and they'd been driving in silence through the darkness for hours.

"Where are we going?" Kurt asked. It was only one of a thousand questions he had, but it was the only one he could bring himself to ask.

"Los Angeles," Nick replied. "We'll be free there."

"Free?"

"Oh shit. You don't know."

Jeff explained the changes that had been made in Kurt's absence, and Kurt was awed. There was really a place he could go without worrying about being marked.

"And my dad?" he asked shakily.

"He's worried sick about you. A lot of people thought you were dead, you know. But we kept looking for you anyway."

A lump formed in Kurt's throat. He wished he could have seen his father before leaving Ohio, but they couldn't risk making him an accomplice in Kurt's escape. When he was safely settled in California, he would call his father right away.

"Where have you been?" Nick asked.

"They has Sebastian's journal with evidence about me and Blaine. They were going to mark me, but I ran. I stayed at a safe house - did you know there's a nationwide network of underground houses for people like us? - and helped kids find safe places to stay. We were caught one night helping a girl get out of Ohio, and that's when you found me. Elliott must have known the driver of her car and heard about the NCEA taking me in."

"Wow," Jeff said. "Hummel, you're pretty badass."

Kurt snorted. He had only done what he needed to do.

"Burt will be so happy to hear from you. He's been out of his mind with worry."

"I can't wait to talk to him. I'm glad he's well otherwise. A - and how is…" he couldn't force the burning question out of his mouth. If something bad had happened to Blaine, he wouldn't be able to handle it. The way Jeff and Nick kept looking at each other and deliberately not bringing up Blaine or the others terrified him. So he didn't ask. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. You've done so much for us over the years, we knew we had to help when Elliott called us. We have an apartment in LA where you can stay as long as you need. There's an extra bedroom and everything." They shared another funny look, and Kurt's stomach sank. There was clearly something they weren't telling him, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

* * *

"I have a surprise for you, Blainey!" Cooper called out as he jumped on the couch, jolting his brother awake.

"Ah! Coop. Go away." Blaine swatted at him blindly. He had been living with Cooper for a few weeks, and had been woken up in such a fashion too many times to count.

"Nope. You need to get up because I found a place for you to live. Say goodbye to the creaky couch!"

Blaine stretched and the flare of pain in his back reminded him of how badly he wanted a real bed.

"I told you to stop looking. I _just_ found a job. I won't be able to pay for rent for a while. I can handle the couch a little longer."

"Nonsense. I'm a famous actor." He grimaced at the look Blaine gave him. "Okay, maybe not yet, but I've made enough from my commercials to support you until you get there."

There was something jittery underlying Cooper's demeanor, but Blaine refused to ask, because he didn't want to hear another tale about the woman with whom Cooper had undoubtedly spent the night.

"Are you sure?" Blaine chewed the inside of his lip guiltily. It felt strange to accept gifts after years of being given nothing.

"One hundred percent. Now pack up and we'll leave in an hour."

Blaine didn't have much to pack, but his suitcase _did_ look like it had exploded all over the living room.

When he left Hummel's Home, he only had enough belongings to fill a single suitcase, including the things he'd smuggled out of Kurt's room. He told himself Kurt wouldn't even notice they were missing, and if he did, he'd want Blaine to have them to remember him by.

Kurt's deep green sweater folded easily into the bag, but not before Blaine put it to his face, inhaling the scent of the boy he loved. The copy of _The Secret Garden_ that Blaine had read so many times it may as well have been his instead of Kurt's slid in easily next to the sweater. And on top of it all, a framed picture of Kurt posing for the camera in the kitchen of Hummel's, where they had first met.

He sighed and kissed the photograph tenderly before zipping it out of sight.

A short while later, he and Cooper pulled up to the apartment complex and unloaded his things from the car, Cooper talking a mile a minute the whole way about his latest audition.

At the door, Cooper made a big deal about handing over the key for Blaine to unlock the door.

"This is huge, little bro. You finally have a place of your own."

Blaine reaches for the lock, but stopped when he heard noise from behind the door.

"Are there - are there _voices_ coming from inside my new place?" Blaine asked, afraid of what the answer might be.

Cooper's responding grin was brilliant. "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you about the roommates that came with the lease."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Jesus, Coop, what have you done?" Leave it to Cooper to find him random strangers to live with. As if he hadn't already had enough of that in his life. He bit the bullet and opened the door and was all but knocked over by a tall brunette.

"Yay! You're here!"

"Nick?" Blaine gasped in surprise. "Jeff? You two are my roommates? I'm so happy to see you!"

Cooper cleared his throat behind them.

Blaine, blushing slightly, turned back to face him.

"I'm sorry for doubting you. How did you do this, Cooper?" Blaine looked back and forth between his brother and his best friend. He wasn't alone anymore and he never would be. " _Thank you_."

"All right, wipe that crazy smile off your face and go check out your room. You can spend the rest of your life thanking me. Particularly at birthdays and Christmases."

Blaine hit his brother on the arm and took off down the hall. The unopened door hid his future sanctuary, and Blaine took a minute before going in to appreciate that he would finally have something of his own.

He opened the door, looked up, and dropped his suitcase in shock.

There was someone in his room already. Someone tall and shapely with perfect hair. Someone who looked just as surprised as he did.

"Blaine?!"

He realized, staring at the man in front of him, that in all of the months of refusing to accept that Kurt was gone for good, a large part of him hadn't actually thought that he would see him again. It felt like a dream, an impossible fantasy. His heart felt like it was vibrating out of his body.

" _Kurt_." He staggered forward, but fell to his knees before he reached the perfect man. He looked up as Kurt sank to his knees as well, reaching out to cup Blaine's face in his palms, but hesitating at the last second.

"I'm good," Blaine breathed, realizing that Kurt didn't know what had happened, and thought he may have regressed to the point where he couldn't handle touch again.

Kurt still didn't move, so Blaine leaned his face forward into the outstretched hands, and melted, tremors running through the floor beneath his knees.

"You're here. And you're in one piece," Kurt said incredulously. "You look okay."

"And you look _alive."_

They gazed disbelievingly into each other's eyes, marveling that somehow, some way, the forces of the universe had brought them back together.

Blaine had thought the ground was shaking, that the earth was opening up to consume them, but it was him. _He_ was shaking violently, and with his body finally coming out of shock, he gave a loud sob and fell into Kurt. His heart was finally at peace.

"Oh god, Kurt, I was so worried. Everyone said you were dead but I couldn't believe it. I never stopped looking for you."

"I was so worried about you, too. There were so many bad things that could have happened to you. Shit. I'm _so_ glad to see your face. Are you alright?"

Blaine nodded. "I'm so much better than alright, now that you're here."

Kurt pulled Blaine on top of him on the ground, rubbing his palm up and down on his back soothingly, unable to believe that Blaine was finally there beneath his hands.

They stayed like that for a while, neither speaking and both crying. So much needed to be said and stories needed to be told, but just being together, breathing together was enough for that moment.

After the initial shock and excitement of seeing Kurt wore off, Blaine's worst nightmare crept to the forefront of his mind. Kurt was alive, but had he gotten away unscathed? Or would he forever have society's disapproval written on his skin? Would he bear the same curse as Blaine?

He reached out to Kurt's wrist with trembling hands and slowly peeled back the sleeve, keeping his eyes on Kurt's the entire time.

He held his breath as the sleeve reached up over Kurt's elbow, and they both turned their attention to his forearm. His unmarked forearm.

Blaine let out the breath he had been holding in a rush of sobs, and Kurt reached for him to pull him closer.

"Shh, I'm okay, Blaine. I'm okay," he repeated, "and so are you. We made it, despite the world being against us. _We made it_."

He leaned his face in for a kiss, pausing to check with Blaine.

"Can I kiss you?"

Independence. Family. Stability. Love. For once in his life, everything was perfect.

Blaine tightened his grasp on Kurt and whispered fiercely against his lips. "You never have to ask again."

**Four Years Later**

"I am so proud of you, Blaine."

Kurt wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's shoulders and gave him a sloppy kiss.

Weeks of work had paid off and they were finally finished renovating the little blue house on the outskirts of Los Angeles. They'd bought it together, but it was Blaine's baby. Not only would it be a home for them, it would be a home for people who had been through hell and back and needed a safe place to go.

Blaine smiled into Kurt's neck. "I really couldn't have done it without you. Thank you for your support."

"We've come so far," Kurt mused, thinking back to the scared, broken people they had once been.

While the federal law still required teenagers to be marked and placed in homes, California allowed them much more freedom than most states. And though equal rights and marriage were still a far off dream, Kurt and Blaine had found a place they could be together without much judgment or persecution.

"We have," Blaine agreed, squeezing Kurt's waist. "We have college degrees and careers where we can make a difference, and we bought a house for our little family. You, me, and Chester."

They laughed as the black cat meowed and rubbed against their legs at the sound of his name.

"I'm proud of you, too, you know," Blaine said, kissing Kurt again. He'd fused his ambitions and started a nonprofit that sent stylish fashions made by Kurt to NC homes around the country so the teens didn't have to wear old, dirty government issued clothes.

"What time is it?" Kurt asked suddenly.

"1:34. He should be here any time."

As he spoke, the sound of tires crunching gravel met their ears. Jeff pulled up with their visitor in tow, and Nick hanging out the back window, waving like a fool.

"Dad!" Kurt shouted, running in to hug him before he'd even had the chance to climb out of the car.

Burt's eyes looked suspiciously wet as he embraced his son for the first time in a year. He had decided to stay in Ohio to keep Hummel's Home open, even though Blaine and Kurt could never step foot back in the state again without running the risk of being sent to the new adult homes they had instituted. As hard as it was, the boys had encouraged Burt to stay, though, because there were people who needed him, just like Blaine once had.

Kurt finally let his dad out of the car and he approached Blaine, hugging him tightly.

"Oh!" Burt exclaimed, pulling something out of his bag and beaming. "I almost forgot. I picked this up at the airport. You did it, bud. Will you sign it for me?"

Blaine laughed and took the book Burt held out to him. He had finished writing his memoir a year prior, and it had hit the shelves over the past weekend, sparking another nationwide debate about the ethics of the NC laws.

"I can't believe you waited that long to buy it," Kurt teased. The close relationship between his dad and his boyfriend warmed him to the core.

"Oh, I didn't." Burt chuckled with a trace of embarrassment. "This is my third copy."

Nick and Jeff returned from taking Burt's bags inside to see Kurt and Blaine laughing at him good-naturedly.

"It's so good to have everyone here for this," Nick said. "Well, almost everyone. I heard Chandler and Sebastian are having a party in NYC to celebrate your grand opening, Blaine."

Jeff shook his head. "I can't believe those two little shits ended up together."

"Can't you, though? They're kind of horribly perfect for each other. Now that Seb isn't a fuckwad, anyway."

"When will Elliott and Emma get here?" Burt asked. As soon as the idea to open a home occurred to Blaine, he had recruited their talents and they'd dropped everything to join his endeavor.

"They're coming in a few minutes, bringing the first residents," Blaine said, the tremor in his voice betraying his nervousness.

Kurt rubbed the back of Blaine's neck, something that always calmed him.

"I just want to make a difference," he muttered.

"You already have," Burt reassured him.

"Now is just your chance to do even more. Are you ready?" Kurt asked. Blaine nodded and stepped forward, a wooden sign and a mallet in his hands.

He hammered it in, Burt snapping pictures of him and Kurt, then stepped back to admire his work.

_Anderson's Home for Non-Conforming Adolescents_

The first car pulled up and out stepped two young boys, who looked as downtrodden and sickly as Blaine once had, five years ago. Elliott had rescued them from their horrible home just across the border just in time. There was no light in their eyes anymore, but Blaine knew he could put it back there with a little love and care.

"Ryan and Garrett," Blaine began, gesturing to the house behind him and echoing the words Burt spoke to him that changed his life all those years ago. He squeezed Kurt's hand and smiled. "This is where it starts to get better. Welcome to Anderson's Home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end! Thank you to everyone who has read and will read this story. It has been a joy to share it with you.
> 
> Find me on tumblr as xbeautifulunseenx
> 
> xo


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